Kyuketsuki Jigoku Vampire Hell
by Static Prose
Summary: ~*~Chapter 8~*~ The older vampires, Duo and Heero spend some time together, and Duo has a small revelation about himself.
1. Prologue and Chapter 1

Kyuketsuki Jigoku   
(Vampire Hell)   
Prologue: Hitotsu no Korosu   
(A Lone Killing)

She met him in class one day. He was new to the area. Everyone had immediately become fascinated by him, with his long braid and violet-gray eyes that were always hidden behind reflective sunglasses. He was so strange. Pale, fine skin and perfect body, perfect smile with shiny white teeth. He was always smiling. He had a cool, playful smile, as if he always knew just what you were thinking. He walked with smooth, fluid movements, like floating. He had a strange aura about him. People knew he was strange, but no one was ever able to quite figure out why. 

She knew she was in love with him the first time she saw him fall asleep in math class. It was like he had merely flipped a switch and passed out. No one could wake him up. People nudged him, the teacher even slammed a book down on his desk, right in front of his face, but he didn't even move. He was like the dead. He didn't even seem to be breathing. But when the bell at the end of class rang, he sat up, stretched, and left the room as if nothing had happened. 

Raelin watched him drift from the classroom, down the hall, and out the front doors of the school. She saw him squint up at the sun painfully and pull his sunglasses out of his shirt pocket to place over his eyes. She followed him from the school, walking close behind, but not so close that he would notice. She couldn't stop staring at his braid, the way it seemed to beckon for her to follow. 

He took a short cut through a thick, wooded area and Raelin followed. He moved so stealthily, like a leopard in a jungle, never hindered by the twigs and torny bushes that jutted out into his path. He was untouchable as he flowed and writhed through the thick vines. Raelin was left behind, having snagged her white blouse on a large thorn. She lost sight of him in the brush, and after freeing herself, she ran to catch up. Coming to a clearing, she stopped. The hot afternoon sun shown down in pillars through the canopy overhead and the heavy humidity made her lip bead with sweat. A lone bird cried out into the air, then there was silence, and Raelin was alone. 

She sat down on a decaying, fallen tree, wiped her face with a small yellow handkerchief, and sighed. Where could the boy have gone? A hand slowly sat on her shoulder and she turned around, startled. The pale features of the boy stared down at her coyly. He removed his sunglasses and smiled. Those violet-gray eyes were so cold. They were lacking of something. 

"Raelin," he whispered and it sounded as if the wind itself had whispered into her ear. Raelin's lips parted silently and she stared up at the boy. "You followed me here, Raelin," he whispered again. The girl lowered her head and her dark hair fell around her face. The mysterious boy's left hand came to rest on her other shoulder, and she looked up and sucked in her breath quickly. It was as if she had been shocked. The boy still smiled down at her. His face was lowering closer to hers and she closed her eyes. Her heart began to beat quickly and she could feel her face flush from the heat. His lips lowered onto hers for one sweet, silent kiss and they were so cold against hers, like ice. She closed her eyes and tasted him on her mouth, feeling as if she may faint. Cold kisses traveled down her cheek to the side of her neck, where the boy began to suck lightly. 

Raelin placed a hand on the boy's neck, behind his thick hair. His skin was cold, as well. She felt a chain on his neck. A necklace. With her other hand, she followed the chain down his chest, into his shirt, and pulled it out. Willing her eyes to open, she looked at the charm that hung from the beaded necklace. A silver cross, intricately designed, with a small red, sparkling jewel in the center. It looks ancient, she thought to herself. That shine in the jewel. It wasn't the sparkle of a brilliant ruby or sapphire. It was a glow. A pulsing glow... which pulsed in rhythm with her very own heartbeat. 

Panicking, Raelin tried to push the boy away, but his grip was like iron and each time she struggled, the tighter his grip on her shoulders became. She felt a sharp pain in her throat, where the boy had been sucking, and felt something warm begin to flow down her neck, onto her shoulder, into her shirt, and down her cleavage. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. She sat frozen, unable to move, as the boy continued to suck on her neck. 

A lone bird cried out into the air, then there was silence and the boy was gone. Raelin's body lay dead on the earthen floor in the clearing, a single withered, red rose in her shrunken hand. 

No one saw the boy after that day. It was as if he had simply disappeared. After finding Raelin's decaying body a few days later, the police feared that he, too, had become a victim of the murderer of Raelin.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Kyuketsuki Jigoku   
(Vampire Hell)   
Chapter One: Watashitachi no Korosu   
(Our Death) 

"Vampires, huh?" The large, plump man looked down at the young lady standing in front of him. She looked very mature for a girl of only sixteen. Long, blonde hair tied up and twisted into a tight bun, a knee-length, brown pleated skirt underneath an untucked white blouse. A pair of gold stud earrings on her tiny lobes were the only jewelry she wore, and no make-up. Not that she needed it. The girl was a bit plain, but pleasing to the eye, nonetheless. And she had a lovely smile, which she was using right now to show she was very serious. 

"Yes, sir," she answered pleasantly. "I was just wondering if you have any of the newer books on vampires?" 

"Well," the man said, resting his hands on top of his large stomach, "I did just get a shipment in. I haven't unpacked it yet, but let's go see what's inside." He gestured for the lady to follow him, and she did, repositioning her backpack on her shoulders so that its contents were distributed evenly. The man led her past the counter and through a small, dimly lit hallway. He unlocked a door and pushed it open. Reaching up blindly, he felt for the pull string for the light. 

After a moment, the small storage closet became filled with light. Boxes were everywhere. Some were stacked on shelves, others were stacked on top of one another, but they were all covered in layers of dust and cobwebs, as if they had never been touched. The girl waited patiently, clasping her hands together in front of her, as the man kicked a few boxes aside with his foot. He grabbed a small stepping stool and hefted his weight up onto it. 

The girl bent down and opened a small box sitting next to her feet. Dust flew up in her face, threatening to make her sneeze, but she held it back and picked up a book from inside. The cover was as covered with dust as the box had been, and she cleared it away with her hand. The title, "Vampire Legends and Facts," stared up at her in golden letters. 

The man next to her grunted as he lowered the heavy box from the top of the shelves onto the floor with a loud crash. "There we go," he said, gesturing to the box with one hand as the other went to his back. He straightened up, cracking his spine, then sat down on the stool and opened the box. 

The girl bent down and began running her finger along the sleeves of the books, searching for something that might be helpful. There was nothing. Most of the titles were cheesy romance novels that would in no way offer her any help. She held the old, dusty book out to the man. "How much for this?" she asked. 

The man took a pair of spectacles from his sweaty shirt pocket and placed them on the tip of his nose. He took the book in his hands, examined the cover, flipped through the pages, sneezing from the dust, then closed the book. "Eh... I've had that one for years and years." 

The girl raised her eyebrows. "So... how much?" she asked pleasantly. 

The man shrugged his husky shoulders. "You can have it, I suppose. I doubt I could sell it in that condition, anyway." 

The girl grasped the book tightly to her chest. "Thank you very much, sir!" 

"Is that all you'll be needing today, young lady?" he asked, still sweating from the exertion of having to move the box. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the sweat beading on his balding forehead. 

"Yes sir," she said, backing out of the closet and nodding. "Thank you again. Have a good day!" she said, waving over her shoulder as she walked down the long hallway and back out the front door. 

The man waved back, too tired to get up and go back to his seat at the front desk. He wiped his forehead again, leaned back against a shelf, and fell asleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The sun still shone brightly as the girl exited the book store. She spotted a park bench across the street and jogged over to have a seat. She placed her backpack next to her and crossed her ankles, resting the book on her lap. She flipped to the index of the book and began scanning down the chapter titles. A boy sat down next to her on the bench, unfolding a newspaper to read. The girl didn't pay him any mind. She was busy right now. 

"Nice day, huh?" the boy asked her. His voice was soft and melodic. It had an airy feel to it, as if he were whispering, though she could hear him clearly, even over the clamor of children playing in the park right behind her. 

"Yes, it is," the girl answered pleasantly, still not removing her eyes from the book. 

"Reading about vampires?" the boy asked. The girl stopped reading and stared at him. His face was blocked by the newspaper. There was no way he could have seen the book, so how did he...? "You won't find anything of any significance in there." The boy folded up the newspaper and placed it in his lap. The girl continued to stare. A pair of reflective sunglasses shielded his eyes as he stared back. "The only way to know anything real about a vampire, is to know a real vampire," the boy said smoothly, pushing the sunglasses higher up on his nose. The girl could not find words to answer. There was something so strange about the boy. He was so pale, with such fine skin, a long braid, and a perfect smile. He smiled crookedly at her, as if he were playing some sort of joke. 

The girl became annoyed. "What do you want, anyway?" she snapped, closing the book quickly. 

The boy put up his hands defensively. "I just saw a pretty girl sitting here all alone, reading a vampire book, and I wondered what she was thinking about. Is there any harm in that?" he asked, looking as innocent as possible while still wearing the sunglasses. 

The girl lowered her head shamefully. She had just been very rude to this boy for no reason. "No," she answered, playing with the edges of the hardcover book in her lap. "I'm sorry." 

The boy smiled again. "That's all right," he said, standing up. "Would you like some ice cream?" 

The girl looked up at the boy standing over her and smiled. "Sure!" she said, standing up. 

"Oh, there's a stand right over there. Let me guess. Vanilla?" 

The girl raised her eyebrows. "Yes, please." 

"Be right back," the boy said, and jogged across the busy street to the ice cream stand. The girl watched him as he ran. He seemed to run so fluidly, his feet barely touching the ground. He came running back across the street with two ice cream cones, one vanilla, one chocolate, and handed the vanilla to the girl as he sat back down. 

"Do you mind if I ask...?" the girl began. 

"Duo." 

"What?" the girl asked, a very confused look on her face. 

The boy smiled at her. "You wanted to know my name, right?" 

"Yes, but..." 

"Well, my name's Duo." 

The girl licked her vanilla ice cream and smacked her lips. She held out her hand for him to shake. "Nice to meet you, Duo. I'm..." 

"Relena?" 

The girl's outstretched hand fell and her face became very serious. "How did you know that?" 

The boy smirked and licked his ice cream. "You don't wanna know," he answered off-handedly. 

"Yes, I do," she corrected, sternly. 

"Trust me, Relena," the boy said, leaning in closer to her face. She could feel his cold breath as he whispered, "you don't want to know." 

The girl's eyes grew slightly larger with fear and she stood up, dropping her ice cream onto the hot sidewalk at her feet. "You're strange!" she nearly screamed with terror. 

"Aren't we all a little strange?" the boy asked, tossing an arm behind the park bench. 

"I'm not! You're just weird! And you're scaring me! You... you stay away from me!" she said as she hastenedly picked up her book and backpack and began walking backwards down the sidewalk. 

"Relena," he mouthed. The girl stopped in her tracks and stared at him. "You don't really want to leave, do you?" She could do nothing but stare. "You know why I know who you are. You know what I am. Don't act as if you are anything different than me. You and I, we're the only ones left." 

"I don't know what you're talking about!" the girl screamed in rage, stomping her foot on the pavement. 

"I've been looking for you for years, Relena." 

"Shut up!" the girl screamed, but the boy persisted. 

"And now that I've found you, you aren't going to leave me." 

The girl backed up a few more steps, nearly tripping on a crack in the sidewalk. "You stay away from me, Duo!" 

"I haven't moved," the boy answered with a nonchalant shrug. 

Relena turned around, prepared to run, but the boy was immediately in front of her, as if he had appeared suddenly. She took a step back, frightened, but the boy remained inches from her face, still breathing his cold breath on her cheek. "Don't try to run away from me, Relena, dear." 

"Stay away!" she screamed in his face, her breath just as cold as his. 

"You've killed our kind. You've nearly eradicated our race! We are the only ones left!" 

"You're crazy!" she screamed in his face. "I don't know what you're talking about! You've got the wrong person! I haven't killed anyone!" 

The boy grabbed her shoulder tightly and ripped his sunglasses off with his free hand. His eyes were blazing with rage, glaring into her frightened face. "You look me in the eye, Relena, and you tell me that you haven't killed your maker!" 

The girl stared into the boy's eyes. The violet-gray bored into her soul and she sobbed and shook with fear. She clenched her fist at her side. "Yes," she whispered, looking away. 

The boy grabbed her face and forced her to look into his eyes. "What was that? I couldn't hear you, Relena!" 

"Yes!" she screamed in his face. "I killed my maker! I killed him! I want us all to die! We're evil! We should all die!" 

The boy smiled at her and pushed her back onto the ground. "That's what I thought." 

The girl sat on the sidewalk, still clutching the book to her chest. She sobbed and cried, not knowing what to do. "What are you going to do to me, Duo? Kill me?" 

The boy leaned down and laughed in her face. "Ha! You think it's that easy, don't you!? You want to die! Why would I kill you?" 

"That's the punishment for killing one of your own!" she yelled back. 

"Get up!" Duo yelled down at her. She stared up at him, confused. He grabbed her arm tightly and pulled her to her feet. "I said, get up!" She stood and brushed off her skirt. "Get your things," the boy ordered, and she complied, picking up her backpack from the sidewalk. "Now, follow me," he instructed, leading her down the street. 

Relena watched him as he walked. He still seemed to float along the ground, not really walking. And somehow, he'd still been able to keep his chocolate ice cream cone intact. He still held it in his hand, licking it as he walked. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"Where are we going?" Relena asked tentatively as Duo led her through tight alleys to some unknown destination. 

"Someplace where we can be alone," the boy answered over his shoulder. He led her down a small alley that appeared to be a dead end. The girl looked around, still confused, for someplace to go, some way to escape. 

"I know what you're thinking, Relena," he said, turning around to face her. "And you know you can't escape." The girl looked away, embarrassed. She'd forgotten that the older vampires could read minds, and Duo seemed to be extremely old. 

The boy moved a large piece of scrap metal leaning against a brick wall. He pushed it out of the way with one hand as it made a sharp scratching sound that sent chills up the girl's spine. A rusted, green metal door was revealed behind it, and he pulled it open. There was light and sound coming from inside, though the sound was unintelligible. Duo pushed her inside ahead of him and closed the door behind. 

He led her through a tight corridor of concrete, rancidly decorated with cheap spray-paint graffiti and chain link fence. The sound she'd heard earlier began to clarify itself, and was recognized as loud music with heavy bass that made her stomach clench. They finally came to a turn in the corridor, and a room that seemed to open into an eternity. It was dark, lit only by trash burning in large metal barrels, no windows, but she could see clearly enough to identify large groups of people standing around. Many of them were standing next to the barrels, warming their hands. Some people were dancing in front of the large stereo system that was blaring the hard rock music, and others were sitting off in the dark corners, smoking pot and dropping acid. There were two people having sex next to her feet, and she stared at them warily. She couldn't tell if either of the two were male or female. 

Duo waved for her to follow as he cruised through the trash covered floor. Some of the people waved to him, patted him on the back, or gave him a slap on the hand. Duo didn't seem to care. He just kept walking. A large rat crossed in front of Relena's feet as she followed him, and she shrieked in terror. A nasty-looking, scruffy man bent down and picked it up, holding it as if it were his pet. "That's Feces," he said to Relena. His hair was matted and plastered down to his forehead underneath the dirty wool cap he wore. "Don't be afraid," he said, reaching out to her with a smudged, gloved hand. "He's our friend." 

Relena smiled back warily before walking away quickly and catching up to Duo. She held onto his shoulder tightly. It was a shameful thing to do, but somehow she knew that Duo would not let anyone here hurt her. He stopped at a door in the wall and held out his hand, gesturing for her to enter. She pulled on the handle, and it slowly opened with a loud creaking sound. It was dark inside, but Relena gathered her courage and entered. 

Duo followed behind her, closing the door and shrouding them in pitch black. Relena tripped over various items on the floor, searching for some sort of light. "Duo?" she asked, panicked. She could feel him somewhere close to her. She sensed his presence and searched for something with her arms outstretched. She knew he could see clearly in the dark, and was toying with her. 

Relena felt a hand on her shoulder and she grabbed it. "Duo!?" she shrieked. Her answer was a light laugh next to her ear. Another hand rubbed her cheek. It was like ice against her skin. Cold and smooth. She could feel his body inches from hers and she folded her arms tightly at her chest, hoping for some sort of protection. 

"You've been a bad girl, Relena," Duo whispered in her ear. She shivered from the icy breath blowing down her neck and shied away from the sound. 

"What did you bring me here for, Duo?" she asked, her voice shaking with fear. 

He laughed in her ear again. "I brought you here," Duo said, caressing her cheek with his thumb, "because I needed to tell you what your maker never did." 

Relena blinked away tears in the darkness. "What he never told me?" she asked, unsure. 

"He lied to you, Relena. He sent you on a killing spree, because he was too much of a pussy to do it himself." A light clicked on overhead and flooded the room with light. The girl stared at the room. It was small and plain. Concrete walls, cement floor covered in trash and empty beer bottles, and a large, worn down mattress with nothing but a mangled gray comforter and two bare pillows. Other than that, there was nothing. Duo sat down on the mattress and gestured for her to sit next to him. 

"I'd rather stand," she said tentatively. 

"Are you sure?" he asked, gesturing at her feet. She looked down. Her shiny black shoes were covered in shiny black flying cockroaches. They crawled up her knee socks and all over her feet. Relena screamed in terror and began to kick her feet, jumping towards the mattress. Duo leaned back laughing at her as she shrieked and kicked at the roaches that didn't seem to be coming off. They continued to crawl around on her knee socks. 

Duo grabbed her shoulders and held her to his chest, still laughing. "Calm down..." he said soothingly, rubbing her blonde hair. "Look." 

Relena looked down at her feet again. The roaches had all disappeared. She sat up and looked over the edge of the bed. There was nothing there, other than the trash and beer bottles. She sat back up, sobbing. "When are you going to stop toying with me!?" she shrieked and pulled her knees up to her chest. 

"Calm down, fledgling!" he ordered. 

Relena lifted her head and stared at him angrily. "Don't call me that." 

Duo laughed out loud. "That's what you are, isn't it? A fledgling? A novice? An apprentice vampire. You're not even old enough to control peoples' minds yet. The sun doesn't bother you. You don't have to feed every week to survive. You still haven't even lost that fleshy, living look about you," he said, rubbing her cheek with the back of his hand. She jerked away from his touch and he laughed venomously. 

"It's funny," he said, gazing up at the ceiling. "You don't want to be called a fledgling, as if you're ashamed you've not matured yet. Yet, you kill all of the elders." 

"You're wrong!" Relena growled at him. "I don't want to be called a fledgling, because I don't want to be a vampire." 

"But you are." 

"But I don't want to be!" 

"But it's who you are," he said, returning his eyes to her. 

"But I don't want it! I didn't ask to become one! I don't want to live forever," she ended in a whisper. 

"Then die," he said, shrugging. 

"It's not that simple for me..." 

"Why not?" Duo asked, laying back on the bed, his arms stretched over his head. 

"I'm afraid." 

"Of what?" 

"Hell." 

"Hell?" 

"I'm afraid I'll go to Hell. There's no way Heaven would ever accept me. I've killed so many people. People who didn't deserve to die." 

Duo shrugged his shoulders. "Survival of the fittest," he said, rubbing his temples. 

"How can you be so cruel?" Relena whispered, lifting her head from the knees at her chest. 

Duo snorted with a short laugh and glared at the girl angrily. "You don't get it, do you?" 

Relena stared at him, not really knowing what to say. 

"We're mother nature's way of destroying a primitive species, Relena." Duo sat up on the bed and grabbed a beer bottle from the floor next to his bed. He pulled the metal cap off with his hand and tossed it to the floor. It made a clattering sound on the cement that shattered the silence. Duo took a long drink from the bottle, then held it out as an offering to Relena. She shook her head seriously, so Duo shrugged and took another drink. "If there weren't people like you out there, who destroyed your own kind, we'd all live forever, with humans as our food source." 

"You're evil," Relena said, shaking. "You're pure evil. How can you be so cruel and vicious? Those people we have to kill to go on living, those people have families and friends that cry at the funerals. They hold each other close and say wonderful things about the persons we killed. Those people all led lives of their own that are precious to..." 

"Shut up!" Duo interrupted, throwing his bottle to shatter against the cement wall. Relena jumped at the sound. Duo pushed the girl onto her back on the bed and crawled on top of her, pinning her wrists down to the mattress with his hands. He breathed a sickening smell of beer into her face and grinned down at her maniacally. 

Relena tried to move her hands, but the boy's grip was far too strong. She kicked her feet underneath his weight on her hips and closed her eyes, crying with fear. 

"Relena," he whispered soothingly into her ear, letting his cheek rest against hers. "Everything in nature kills to survive. Vampires, humans, tigers, even insects. They're no different. Vampires feed on humans, humans feed on domesticated animals. It's a food chain, and we are at the top. We are a superior race." Duo loosened his grip and sat up, still straddling her lower half. "We should be respected. We are the only species intelligent enough to feed on humans." 

Relena let the tears flow down her cheeks as she watched the boy talk. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, for the boy actually made sense. He had a good point. But that would never sway her from her belief that vampires were all evil, and should all be killed. 

"Still not going to stop trying to kill us all?" he asked, leaning down to tug gently against a loose strand of blonde hair. 

Relena could do nothing more than look away and shake her head. She knew all vampires must die. They didn't have the right to feed on the precious lives of humans. 

"Well," Duo said, standing up above her and placing his hands defiantly against his hips, "you and I are the only ones left. If you want to eradicate our race, you'll have to kill me, first. Then, kill yourself. But I must warn you: Don't think it will be as easy to kill me as it was the others. You killed vampires older than me, and for that, you have my attention." 

"But I..." Relena began, staring up at the boy hovering above her. 

"I don't know how you did it, but you did," the boy continued, unhindered by her talking. "I must warn you, Relena, I'm older than you think." The girl shook her head in disbelief. "I have a lot more power than you think. I will defend myself." Relena continued to stare. "And you will die if you fight me." 

With those last words, the boy disappeared from above her. He seemed to simply fade away, and Relena was left alone in the bare room, shivering on the bed. She curled up into a fetal position on her side, hugging her knees to her chest again. What was she going to do now?   
  



	2. Chapter 2

Kyuketsuki Jigoku   
(Vampire Hell)   
Chapter Two: Kawari no Ikikata   
(Alternative Lifestyles)

  


A tall, slender, elegant woman, her brown hair tied up neatly. She held a leash in her hand. On the other end was a skinny poodle dog with fluffy white hair. No, that woman was poisoned. She had drugs and alcohol in her blood. That simply would not do. An older woman, plump and jolly. She was slow and fat, walking with a slight limp. No, she was too old. Not fresh and ripe like he wanted. A pretty young woman, a mother, pushing a carriage while her young boy followed behind, tapping on lamp posts and trash cans as he walked along. 

The boy. Ah, the boy, so young and youthful and full of life. He would be perfect. His blood would be fresh and salty tasting, like a thick wine elixir. Not quite to the age of seven. Merely a young boy of six, his brown hair cropped short and his large blue eyes glistening with interest as he jogged along behind his mother. Perfect. So perfect. 

The boy leaned against a blue convertible car, shielding his eyes from the harsh sun that shone down upon his fine, pale skin. He licked his lips viciously, anxious for the bitter-sweet taste that would soon fill his mouth and coat his throat. He walked through the road filled with heavy traffic, paying no mind to the cars that sped past just inches from his body. Upon coming to the sidewalk on the other side, the boy matched pace with the youth, keeping directly behind him, watching his every move out of the corner of his eyes. 

The young boy stopped walking and bent down to pick up a shiny bottle cap that glittered in the sunlight, and that's when the boy made his move: he rushed foward and grabbed the child up, wrapping one arm around his tiny chest, and flew into a dark alleyway. No one on the street seemed to have noticed. The vampire had moved so quickly, like lightning, his movements had been unseen by the passers by. 

The alleyway was cluttered with trash and empty boxes. The stench of a rancid pile of trash wafted into the young boy's nostrils suddenly, and he looked around, confused. Hadn't he just been out on the street, following behind his mother? He turned around, and a strange-looking boy hovered above him. He looked up at the boy who wore the dark sunglasses with an air of fascination. He'd never seen a boy who looked like that before. He was so pale and smooth, like marble skin, and his hair was a thick, dark brown mass that seemed to stick out from his skull. His mouth, so perfectly sculpted, looked cruel and twisted. It never moved. 

The young boy walked closer, fascinated by the man's clothes. They were so clean and crisp. A black overcoat over a dark green shirt and black pants. He stared at the shoes. They were clean, too. And very shiny, very reflective. 

"Who are you?" the boy asked, putting his index finger in his mouth. 

The young man didn't move. He stared at the little boy like a statue, not caring to answer. 

"Where's my mommy?" the boy tried asking, only to get the same response: a menacing stare and an unmoving face. 

The older boy knelt down to the youth's height, still staring at him behind the dark sunglasses, and put his heavy hand on the frail shoulder. He pulled him slowly closer and lowered his face to the boy's. "Your mommy," the boy said in a threatening whisper, "can't help you now." 

The boy was paralyzed with fear and he stared into space as the vampire lowered his mouth to the warm, healthy skin of his neck and began to suck viciously. He tried to cry out as he felt a sharp sticking in his throat, but no sound arose, only a slight grunt of discomfort. He pushed at the boy's chest, trying in a futile manner to get him away. He touched something cold and metallic and grabbed it tightly, pulling on it as if to sway the evil young man. The red glowing of the charm burned his hand and he dropped it quickly, staring at it, for there was nothing more he could do than stare. It was a silver cross, very old, with a dark, glowing jewel in the middle, a jewel that seemed to pulsate at a regular rhythm; the rhythm of his heartbeat. 

The boy tried screaming for his mother once more before darkness shrouded his eyes and he fell limply into the vampire's arms. A moment later, the boy was gone, leaving only a shell of a six year old lying on the ground, shrivelled and sunken skin barely clinging to the thin bones that made up his frame. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

It was dark, and he knew that the park would be deserted. The wind whistled in the tree leaves overhead, casting an eerie feel to his surroundings. The empty swings swayed with the wind and the boy tightened his coat at his neck. He walked past the large, curvy orange slide, stopping only a moment to stare at its emptiness. The fountain, the sandbox, the crude wooden playground, they were all deserted. On nights like this, he felt as if he were the only living human left on earth, and he cherished the feeling. He enjoyed being alone these days. He didn't care for the friendly ears willing to listen to him talk about his feelings. He hated it when the counselors at his school would call him in and ask if everything was okay. "It wasn't your fault," they would say to him. "Everyone dies, and it was just his time to die." They were all wrong. It was his fault, and it wasn't his time to die. He had allowed his own father to die, and now he was all alone, save for an older sister that was now his legal guardian. 

The boy snorted in disgust as he kicked a rock down the sidewalk in the park. It scattered and clunked along the concrete, shattering the silence. His legal guardian. That girl was hardly a guardian. Every morning, he would wake up and go downstairs, only to find her sleeping nude on the couch with a naked man lying on the floor beside her, and that was on a good day. Most often, there would be people strewn from one end of the living room to the other, and the entire place reeked of spilled alcohol, vomit, and drugs. And every day, after school, he would come home and straighten up the house. He'd grab the bucket of bleach water and a washcloth and scrub up the vomit in and around the bathroom. He'd pick up the broken glass of the photographs that had fallen to the floor and busted. The photographs of his dead father and mother. He'd place all of the soiled needles into the trash can, and place the mirror and the rolling papers in the top drawer of the table next to the couch, along with any drug bags that still had remains in them. He'd throw away the empty beer bottles and take the dirty cups into the kitchen to wash, only to go through all of this the next day. How he tired of it. He was disgusted by his sister and her drunk lovers that would come over at night and snort at him, asking what the little boy was doing here. With each new man, his siter would have to explain the story, how their father died, and now she was his guardian, but don't worry, he's cool. He would never tell anyone. And he knew he couldn't. They would take him away if they knew. 

The boy sat down on a tree stump and pulled his legs up to his chest. He wished he could die right then. Just fall over on the ground and sleep for an eternity. It would be so wonderful to forget the life he was being forced to live. 

The wind whistled through the trees again, and the boy sat up, staring through the leaves at the pale moonlight that shone down. Then he noticed that the wind was whistling a tune. A very soothing, peaceful melody. He became confused and looked around the park, trying to locate the source of the sound. He knew the wind could never make music as wonderful as what he was hearing. He stood up and inched down the sidewalk warily, following the sound. 

He passed the empty merry-go-round that circled around slowly as if possessed, and down the steep hill that sat adjacent. That's when he saw the figure sitting on the bench, one arm slung carelessly behind it. The moonlight shimmering off the wind-produced waves of the lake in front of the person's resting place cast it entirely in shadow. The whistling stopped a moment and the person raised an arm, lifting a glowing red tip to the face for a moment, and when it exhaled, smoke obscured the moonlight's reflection, and the whistling continued. 

The boy gathered his courage, adjusting his coat even tighter on his neck, and approached the mysterious source of the whistling. He thought it strange that there was someone else out this late, and in the same place as he, no less. 

As he came closer, he began to notice something swaying behind the figure. Some thick lock of something flowing as the wind blew. A braid. It was a braid flowing behind, and the boy was shocked to realize it must be a girl. But what was a girl doing out this late in a place like this? After all, this was not the best neighborhood to be alone in after dark. Who knows what could happen to an innocent young girl, all alone, sitting on a bench in the middle of a deserted park, no one around to hear her, were she to scream out. She could get raped, or murdered, or robbed. 

The boy continued approaching as the whistling continued ahead of him. He was sure now that the girl was the source. It stopped momentarily as the glowing red cigarette was brought to her lips, and smoke exhaled as the whistling resumed. The boy was merely five feet from the bench now, but the girl didn't seem to notice. She continued whistling, whether she did notice or not. 

The boy didn't know what to do or say. He stood silently, absorbing the enchanting melody. He could smell the cigarette smoke as the wind drifted it backwards, into his face. The whistling stopped and the boy stood motionless for an eternity, waiting for it to resume. "Are you going to sit down?" the figure asked, and the boy immediately noticed the pitch of the voice. It was not a girl's voice. It was far too deep, and even husky. It sounded like a loud whisper, though. Soft and sweet. Not at all threatening. 

"I'm sorry," the boy said, emberrassed. "I just heard a whistling, and I was wondering where it was coming from. I didn't mean to disturb..." 

"Have a seat," the boy interrupted, gesturing to the bench with the hand slung behind it. The boy complied, walking around and sitting close to the young man. He felt as if he'd sat down a bit too close, but feared sliding down, as the other boy may think it rude. So he kept his place, close enough that the boy's arm was almost wrapped around behind him. 

The boy with the braid continued to stare out over the lake, seeming to absorb the moonlight. He wore a pair of reflective sunglasses, though it was probably far too dark to see anything through them, and he whisltled a few more strains before stopping and turning to the boy next to him. 

The boy stared a moment, wondering why the other was wearing the sunglasses, but smirked in a friendly manner, nonetheless. "Are you new to the area?" he asked, folding his hands in his lap. 

"Yep," the boy answered before raising the cigarette to his lips again, and exhaling smoke right into the other's face. "Sorry," he said, wafting the smoke away with his hand. 

"That's alright," the boy said, shrugging. "I'm used to smoke." 

The boy shrugged, still staring at him. 

"I was just wondering if you were new here, because you look about my age, and I haven't seen you at school, so I thought..." 

"Yeah, I'm new," the boy interrupted again. 

"Well, my name's Quatre," he said, holding out his hand. 

The boy stared at him a moment, but shook his hand, removing his arm from the bench behind Quatre. It felt like ice. Cold and smooth and soft. 

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?" Quatre asked, still holding the boy's hand. The boy loosened his grip noticeably, but still held it as he returned to looking at the lake. 

"Do you really want to know my name?" the boy asked mysteriously, and Quatre wondered for a moment what he could mean by that. 

"Well, yes. I mean, I told you mine, so..." the boy's words faded away as he waited for him to answer. There was silence, and they still held hands in the moonlight. 

"Well?" 

"Well, what?" the boy asked, putting the cigarette to his lips again. 

"Are you going to tell me your name?" the boy asked, slightly impatient. 

"Yes." 

"Well?" 

"Well, what?" 

Quatre squeezed the boy's hand slightly. "What is it?" 

"What is what?" 

"Your name." 

"What about it?" 

Quatre knew he was toying with him now and he took a deep breath, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. No one had ever acted like this to him before. They'd always walked on eggshells around him, careful not to upset him. But this boy, he was doing all he could to get on his nerves. 

"What's your name?" the boy asked, still holding his hands. 

The boy turned to Quatre and smiled brilliantly. "Ah!" he said excitedly. "Now that's the question I've been waiting on!" he tightened his grip on Quatre's hand and gave it a quick shake. "Duo." 

Quatre pulled his hand away from the icy grip and shoved it into his pocket to warm it. "Nice to meet you," he paused. "Finally," he said meekly. 

The boy laughed outloud and patted him on the shoulder. "You too, finally." 

"So, what are you doing out here this late?" 

The boy turned to face him and smiled playfully. "I should ask you the same question."   


Quatre blushed and looked away. "I always come here at night," he said, shoving his free hand in his pocket and sinking down in the bench. 

"Trouble at home, I suppose?" The boy flicked the cigarrette out towards the lake and it flew in a   
glowing red circle before landing on the white sand of the beach. 

"You could say that..." 

"Your sister got another boyfriend over at the house tonight?" 

Quatre paled and stared at the boy a moment. How could he have known? "You could say that, too," he answered finally. 

"I did." 

"How did you know?" 

The boy waved a dismissive hand in his face and reached into his jacket, pulling out a small red and white pack. He held it up inches from Quatre's face. "Cigarrette?" 

The boy thought a moment. "Yes, they are." 

Duo turned to him and smiled brilliantly, revealing perfect white teeth. "I should have known..." he said laughingly. "Would you like a cigarrette?" he corrected. 

"No thank you," Quatre said, looking away. "They're bad for you. Besides, you're supposed to be eighteen to smoke. You shouldn't be doing it, either." 

"Trust me, Quatre, I'm plenty old enough to smoke, and I don't worry about them effecting my health in the slightest." 

Quatre raised an eyebrow in question. "Oh? How old are you? You don't look any older than me." 

Duo chuckled a bit and rubbed his forehead. "I'm a lot older than you. A lot." He put a large amount of emphasis on the word "lot," and Quatre stared at him strangely. 

Duo took off his sunglasses and stared at the boy. His eyes were a brilliant violet-gray that seemed to look into your very soul. They were kind eyes, soft and shiny, but there was something deep inside that was cold and dead. Perhaps it was just the moonlight's reflection... "How old do you think I am?" 

"Sixteen," Quatre answered quickly. "Maybe seventeen?" 

The boy shook his head quickly and smirked. "Way off." 

Quatre suddenly became wary. This boy was strange. Not only was he telling him that he was much older than seventeen, he was sitting on a park bench in the middle of nowhere, smoking a cigarrette, whistling, and reading peoples' minds. Not to mention, he seemed to get a great amount of pleasure out of toying with him. "Okay," the boy said, gathering his courage. "How old are you, exactly?" 

"Exactly?" the boy asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. 

"Yes." 

Duo seemed to think a moment, adding up the numbers in his head. "Do you have the time?" he finally asked. 

Quatre looked down at his watch, pressing the internal light on. "Twelve thirty-five," he said, returning his gaze to the boy. 

"I am..." the boy said, still staring off into space, "exactly twelve-hundred, thirty-six years, one-hundred twenty-five days, sixteen hours, and fourty-seven, no, wait, fourty-eight minutes old." 

Quatre laughed nervously. "You're twelve hundred years old?" 

"Twelve-hundred, thirty-six," Duo corrected cooly, placing the sunglasses back on his face. 

"So, you're dead?" Quatre asked, scratching his head. Every instinct inside him told him to run, that this was dangerous and crazy, but something held him back. For some reason, he knew this boy would not hurt him. He was a bit crazy, yes, but not dangerous. 

Duo frowned a bit and shrugged. "Not exactly," he said, stretching his arms above his head. "Dead people don't smoke. They don't move, they don't breath, they don't eat, and they don't have sex," he said laughingly. "I do." 

"A twelve-hundred year old man who smokes in a deserted park at midnight and has sex," Quatre said sarcastically. "Now that's amazing. You must take your vitamins regular." 

"Nope," Duo said, staring at the boy. 

"How have you lived for so long?" Quatre asked with great sarcasm. This boy was just strange. 

"Now, that," Duo said, pointing a finger directly at Quatre's nose, "I can't tell you." 

"I thought so," Quatre said, smirking. 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

Relena awoke to the loud creeking of the heavy metal door of the room. How long had she been asleep? Two young men stumbled into the room, drunk, and began kissing viciously and ripping each other's clothes off. Relena shrieked in terror. What kind of perverts would pay no mind to an innocent young girl laying on the bed in this room? The men stopped kissing and glared at the girl angrily. "Get out of here, bitch!" one of them screamed at her, and she sat staring, stupified. 

"What are you staring at, you stupid cunt!?" the other screamed, removing his arms from around his lover and walking towards the bed. "Does Duo know you're in here?" 

"This room is not for sleeping in!" the other screamed. 

These boys were beginning to truly scare Relena and she got up from the bed slowly, backing away towards the door. "I'm sorry," she said shakily, straightening her skirt out of habit. "Duo brought me here, and I fell asleep. I didn't mean to..." 

"Whaddaya know!" the blonde standing in the corner laughed. "Duo finally brought a girl here!"   


Relena stared at him strangely. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, still backing slowly toward the door. She felt the cold metal press against her back and reached behind her, searching for the handle. 

The black haired boy standing over the bed crossed his arms at his chest and laughed at the girl. He was very attractive, with tan skin and brown eyes. "Usually it's a guy that Duo brings here to play with. I'm just surprised it's a girl this time," he said, still staring at the girl. Relena could tell he was getting impatient, wanting her to leave the two alone, but she ignored the fact for the moment, and dared to ask more questions. 

"I still don't know what you mean, sir," she stated in as kind a manner as she could, using the "sir" out of pure kindness, rather than respect. "Play with?" 

The blonde stared at the other boy. "Is she for real?" He looked pitifully at the girl. "Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast this morning, girl, or are you just naturally that dense?" 

The girl furrowed her eyebrows and frowned at the young man. He certainly was being rude to her, and for no reason. She supposed that this was what she got when she came to a trashy place like this, then fell asleep on a worn down mattress in a cavern of a room. 

"Man, she can't help it if she's dumb," the black haired boy said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Just speak slowly to her, and she may understand." 

The blonde nodded and faced the girl, sneering down at her as if she were some nasty spider that should be squished underneath the heel of his black army boots. "Duo brings guys here to play with," he said, grabbing her hand and giving it a comforting squeeze. "He brings them here, spends a few hours with the door locked, and then leaves. Sometimes the boys leave later, sometimes they don't." 

The girl pulled her hand away. She despised being patronized, and these guys were really getting on her nerves. She could feel the rage inside her begin to build. And her thirst began to wake alongside it. She found herself thinking how their blood would taste. It had been so long since she'd fed. She was becoming weak, and she wondered if she could handle the two of them at once without being injured. "What happens to the boys who don't leave?" she asked, the answer not really mattering to her. She knew what happened to the boys who didn't leave. They probably had become his victims. 

The blonde shrugged and pouted down at the little girl, "We don't know. A few of them are killed." 

Relena tried her best to look surprised and scared, though she wasn't. Sometimes, she amazed herself, how well she could act innocent when truly she was building up her strength to attack and kill. "A few of them, we never see again," the blonde said, shrugging again. "It's all up to Duo, who lives and dies. That's why we call him the God of Death. He hates it though." 

"Apparently," the dark haired boy said, his arms still crossed at his chest, "Duo likes you, otherwise, you'd be buried out back, behind the building. 

Relena stared at them a moment, then a smile began to wake upon her lips and the boys stared at her strangely. "You idiots," she whispered loudly. The boys didn't move. "You think I'm stupid enough not to know this!? Do you know why Duo didn't kill me?" 

The blonde laughed and put his hand on her shoulder. "Why, little girl? Why didn't he kill you?" 

Relena made a growling sound in her throat and the boy jerked his hand away as if it had been shocked. He looked down at it, confused. It was red and burning, and it continued to burn, hotter and hotter, as if being eaten away by acid. He screamed in pain and grabbed his wrist, but the pain continued. 

"He didn't kill me, little boy," she said, glaring at the two under the blonde bangs that fell into her eyes, "because I am one of his own!" 

"What?" the dark haired boy said, backing away. 

Relena screamed loudly and the lights in the room went out, leaving the three in total blackness. The two boys screamed in terror as Relena rushed foward, her sight completely unhindered by the darkness, for her power was at its peak. She could hear their frantic thoughts in her mind as she grabbed the blonde by his hair and scratched deep into his neck with her fingernails. Blood gushed out quickly and splattered onto her face as she lowered her mouth to the gash and began to feed hungrily. It felt so good, the thick, fresh blood coating her throat and filling her stomach. She could feel her entire body warm from the inside out, and when the boy finally died in her arms, she dropped his limp, shrunken body onto the floor and glared at the dark haired boy. 

He was still screaming, yelling for help, stumbling helplessly over all of the piles of trash and falling down onto the bed. Relena walked slowly towards him as he flailed his arms violently for protection. "Somebody help me!" he screamed, but no one could hear. Relena knew now why Duo used this room to kill his victims. The walls and door were thick, and the loud music outside blocked out all sounds. There were no windows, and no light, and no way out. This was the ideal killing place. 

Relena hovered over the boy, undetected, and he still screamed, frantically scared. She smiled to herself viciously. Blood pumped with adrenaline and fear. This would be even better than the other boy. She crawled onto the bed, breathing heavily. "Shhh..." she said soothingly, and the boy stopped screaming, attempting to find where the sound had come from, so close to his ear. "Don't be afraid, little boy." 

"Leave me alone, you stupid bitch!" he said, swinging towards the source of the sound. He missed her by a great distance, and Relena laughed menacingly. 

"This won't hurt at all, if you just relax," she said, rubbing his chest with her hand. The boy sat frozen, staring blankly into the darkness. He was so confused and afraid, he had lost all reason, and didn't know what to do. He let Relena rub his chest soothingly. She put a warm hand on his face and carressed his cheek. She twisted her slender fingers in his hair pulled his head back, revealing the entire length of his neck. The boy screamed again, and Relena slashed his neck with her fingernails. The scream ended in a sickening bubbling sound as blood rose from his mouth and Relena attached her mouth to the flowing blood, feeding hungrily. Oh, yes. This was so much better than the other boy's blood. Such a fast heartbeat, so full of fear and adrenaline. It was thick and luxurious and she basked in the feeling for longer than she ever had. She didn't want to ever stop, it felt so good, and finally, the boy lay dead in her arms, and she continued to feed, though the heart had stopped pumping blood into her mouth. She sucked violently, still trying to draw out the blood from the shrivelled corpse, and it was still so flavorful and marvelous. She savored every drop until he was entirely drained, with not a drop of blood left. 

Relena stood up from the bed and licked the blood from underneath her fingernails. She could feel how warm her body had become. She was energized and refreshed and she knew that this feeding would last her for at least a month as she wiped the blood from her face with the faded gray bedspread.   
"Shit," she said outloud as she looked down at her soiled garbs, soaked in blood. "Now I'll have to get a new pair of clothes!" She kicked the blonde laying on the floor, flipping his body over. She smiled down at his dead body and stepped on his face hard, shattering his skull with a sickening snapping of bones. The boy's brains squirted out of the top of his head as the skull caved entirely in around her foot. "Jerk," she said to his brains on the cement floor. "you should respect your elders." She kicked him one last time before walking out the door, leaving the two disgusting corpses lying on the floor and bed, and blood coating the entire room. 

Relena walked through the large, open room. The people were still there, warming their hands next to the fire burning in the barrels. No one seemed to notice, or even care that she was dripping with blood. She walked back the way she had followed Duo in, up the long, tiny corridor, decorated with graffiti and fencing, and pushed the heavy door open. It was dark and crisp outside, and she breathed in the fresh night air as she began to walk out of the alleyway, searching for a place to get a new pair of clothes. 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"Do you ever feel as if dying would be the easiest way out?" Quatre asked, staring out over the water. He and Duo had walked down to the lake, taking off their shoes and wading in the water. It was cold, and it made Quatre shiver, but Duo didn't seem to mind it. In fact, he had enjoyed it, as if he'd never done something so simple as this that could give him pleasure. Quatre was glad he'd suggested it. 

Duo sighed and fell back into the white sand beach and interlocked his fingers on his chest. "To tell you the truth, Quatre, no. I don't." 

"You never get mad about having to live a bad life?" 

"I don't have a bad life," Duo whispered happily as he began counting the stars overhead. They were so small and so numerous, it made him feel tiny and insignificant. And alone. 

"Oh," Quatre said, looking away. Duo seemed to be so happy all of the time. Could it be true that he had a good life? That he was never bothered by school or friends or insecurity, or any of the other things that challenge normal teenagers' stability? 

"You do, though," Duo said off-handedly. 

"Yes," Quatre answered, though he knew it had not been meant as a question. This boy could read every thought in his head. Duo knew more about him than he knew about himself. It was mysterious and strange, but comforting in a way. No one had ever been able to tell what he was truly feeling before. 

"Dying," Duo said in a commanding tone, "is not the answer." 

Quatre laid back on the sand next to Duo and turned to his side, watching the boy's face intently as he asked, "What is?" 

Duo smiled knowingly and looked at Quatre, just inches from his face. The boy looked so innocent, with that platinum blonde hair and those baby blue eyes. No wonder everyone treated him the way they did. He could be easily mistaken for an angel, he was so beautiful. But Duo was not fooled, for he had a knowledge of these things. Quatre was far from innocent. He withheld secrets from the world that no one in their strangest dreams would dare to believe. Like, when he was seven, he'd played with his father's gun and killed a bird. He hadn't felt bad about it. Quite the contrary. He'd enjoyed it, and he later shot a dog, then a cat, and he'd often times set the sight on people from his apartment bedroom window. Of course, he'd never pulled the trigger, he was far too timid, but he'd wanted to. He'd dreamed of killing people, and he yearned for it. He'd done drugs before, as well. Stolen money from his sister and some of her many lovers and bought them on a dark street corner in a bad part of the city in the middle of the night. The man who'd sold it to him had come onto him and Quatre was disgusted, so he shot the man in the knee-cap then beat him up to the point of near death, and he'd enjoyed it. This boy was evil. Not pure evil, but defianately not right in the head. 

"The answer is to live, Quatre." 

"To live," Quatre said nostalgically. He knew what Duo meant. He meant, don't let the problems bother you. Live your life to the fullest, no matter how awful it becomes. 

Duo snorted with laughter. "That's not what I meant, Quatre," he said, squinting his violet gray eyes at the boy. "I meant, live a different life than the one you have now. Only you have the ability to change the way things are going for you." 

"Me?" Quatre asked, suddenly confused. Did he mean to just run away from his problems? 

"No, Quatre, I don't mean run away. I mean to live a different life. It's like clearing the slate. You're still you, everyone else is still everyone else, but you've got an entirely different life, and in this life, there are no rules and regulations. There's just..." Duo shrugged, "freedom, I suppose." 

Quatre snorted, disbelieving. "It sounds like a dream, to me. Is that the way your life is?" 

"Just about, yeah!" Duo stated excitedly. 

"Are you always stoned?" 

Duo laughed again. "Only on the bad days," he said, rubbing his forehead and smiling. 

The silence lengthened as they both stared at each other a moment, thinking. Quatre turned his gaze back to the stars above and watched their distant sparkling. Duo watched Quatre watch the stars and smiled. "Such a sweet little one," he thought to himself. "I wonder if he could handle it?" Quatre cleared his throat quickly. "How do I do that?" he asked, looking at Duo again. "How do I clear the slate and get a life so simple?" 

Duo smiled to himself. The bait had been taken, now it was time to reel in the little fishy. "All you do," the boy said, standing up in the water and brushing his black pants off, "is follow me, but there is one condition." 

"What?" Quatre asked, standing up in the water beside Duo. 

"When we get where we are going, you have to remember to forget to be afraid. If you get scared, then I can't help you." 

"Why not?" Quatre asked, totally intrigued, and he followed Duo up the beach, still trying to brush the sand out of his hair. 

Duo stopped in his tracks and faced Quatre. "Now that," he said, pointing a finger directly at Quatre's nose, "is something I can't tell you." 

Quatre smiled at the boy and pushed his finger away. "I thought so."   



	3. Chapter 3

Kyuketsuki Jigoku   
(Vampire Hell)   
Chapter Three: Anata no Kyofu Tamotsu no Ugoku   
(Your Fear Keeps Me Going)

  


It was a church. The roof was sunken in and dripping with the raindrops that had begun pouring down upon it, and the pews were all rotten and falling apart. It must be over a hundred years old, and the stained glass windows were all cracked and broken. Some of them were entirely gone. An old pipe organ sat off to a corner, it's keys covered in years of dust and dirt, and the bronze pipes turning to a rusty brown. Quatre stared at a large cucifix that hung precariously to the wall above the center of the altar. The body of Jesus was red, as if it had been covered and stained in blood, and half of its right arm was missing. The confessionary booths to the left were also falling apart, and one door sat awkardly, attached by only one hinge and swinging in the wind that came through the drafty windows. 

He didn't like this. He didn't like it at all. This church could cave in at any moment and the floor upon which he walked was weak and rotting and it sinked in and creaked with each step he took. The carpet that had once covered the floor looked as if it had been burned, it was so dirty and trampled. 

"You aren't scared, are you?" Duo asked, walking sure-footed towards the front of the church, tapping every pew to his right and left with the palms of his hands. Some of the wood splintered and fell to the floor with his touch. 

Quatre shrugged. "No, not at all. I mean, this place is really nasty and old, but not scary." 

Duo laughed loudly and the sound echoed through the entire building, bouncing off the high ceiling and echoing a second time. It made Quatre shiver. It was eerie. "Just wait!" Duo said deep and threatening, his eyes glinting at the boy from over the rims of the sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose. 

"Why are we here?" Quatre asked as he picked up a Holy Bible from the floor. The cover was covered in dust and very weather worn and when he opened it, the pages inside practically crumbled with the movement and fluttered to the floor. 

Duo hefted himself up onto the altar with the palms of his hands and sat cross-legged, smiling at Quatre. "Before I became... what I am... I was Catholic. Now, I know better than to believe in crazy ideals like God and Heaven or Hell. And I know that if there is a Devil, then I am he." 

Quatre snorted. "That's all very nice, Duo," he said, dropping the book onto one of the rotten pews. The wood cracked and splintered and the book fell straight through onto the floor. Quatre stared at it strangely. 

Duo glared at him a moment. "Just let me finish, okay?" he said in a playful manner. "I was Catholic, and this place holds some of my memories. It's not quite as old as I am, but it's been here awhile, and I used to come here to listen to the Father's sermons. He was a great speaker, though his beliefs were a bit off-track. He only spoke about God and Jesus and the sweet Mother Mary, even though all of that is pure shit." 

"So you don't believe in God?" 

"Are you crazy!? Of course not! God created man, and he shall have his time on earth, such a short time, and then descend up to Heaven where he will be greeted with a pair of shimmering wings and a halo and nice, fat harp to play for all eternity.   
Give me a break!" 

"The Bible never says that," Quatre said, placing his hands on his hips. 

"Look, all I'm saying is that, if God created man, a mortal, then who created the immortal? Who created those of us who never die? Who created the ones who feed on man to survive for all eternity on Earth?" Duo paused a moment and lowered his head. "Who created me?" he whispered. 

"Duo, you're really beginning to act strange and it's starting to scare me, and we're out here in the woods in the middle of absolutely nowhere and it's raining. This place could fall apart any minute and squish us. Aren't you worried?" Quatre walked toward the altar, staring at Duo's lowered head. He was beginning to worry about the boy. Perhaps his life wasn't all that great. Perhaps he needed some help. I mean, the boy did truly believe himself to be immortal. 

"Look, Quatre. When you've lived as long as me, you've seen the beliefs keep changing, and you tire of trying to keep up with them, so you believe whatever you can. You believe them until you finally figure out that what you've been believing this whole time is nothing more than the myths and legends. You find out that the myths and legends, the monsters under your bed, the werewolves and zombies, the vampires, these are the true Gods of the world, because they're here, and they have an effect on humans. Maybe no one prays to us, but we do make miracles happen, even if they are our own miracles." 

"Us, we, our!" Quatre screamed, totally confused. He was getting a bit annoyed now, listening to this maniac babble endlessly about living forever and vampires and werewolves, and all the while, the rain had gotten steadily heavier, until there was a river flowing from a hole in the back corner of the roof all the way to the altar underneath Duo's feet. "I don't know what you're talking about anymore, Duo! You're confusing me! What are you trying to say, that you're a werewolf? That you're God? Well, you're not! Maybe God isn't here on earth in a physical form, but he lives in our hearts and souls." 

Duo tilted his head back and laughed loudly and the sound mingled with the rain pouring and the lightning that crashed outside and the whole thing became one giant scream of laughter. "In your hearts!?" he screamed, glaring at Quatre. His legs were still crossed and the water flowed on the floor just inches below his dangling feet. He jumped down and the water splashed up onto his pants and soaked his shoes. "The only thing in a human heart," he said menacingly, approaching the boy who was now backing slowly away, "is the only thing that can keep me alive forever!" 

"Duo!" Quatre shrieked and put up his hand in defense. "What the hell are you talking about!? You're scaring me!" 

Duo laughed again and continued approaching, his perfect white teeth gleaming in the moonlight thst barely shown through the broken window panes. He came within inches from the frightened boy's face, breathing cold breath on his cheek. Quatre put his hand to the boy's chest and pushed slightly, trying to get him to back away, but Duo leaned into the push and refused to move. 

"Quatre," Duo said deeply, and the sound caused a pain in the boy's chest. He felt as if he may faint with fear. "Why are you doing this to me!?" 

"Wh-what?" Quatre studdered, still trying to push him away. He couldn't clear his thoughts enough to push any harder than he was, and he knew that if he didn't calm down, Duo may very well hurt him. 

"I told you not to be afraid! I warned you!" Duo said through gritted teeth as he grabbed a lock of blonde hair in his fist. 

"I can't help it!" Quatre screamed over the lightning that crashed outside. "You're scaring me!" 

Duo's hand shook a moment and finally released the hair in its grasp. "Quatre, I like you! I'm not going to hurt you, but you must not be afraid!" 

"I can't help it!" Quatre sobbed, and the tears that had been threatening to fall were finally shed. They fell onto his tan cheeks and dripped to the floor. 

Duo stared at the tears strangely a moment. He'd never seen a boy cry before. Not even the victims he had tortured painfully before their death had shed tears. They had screamed and kicked, even fainted, but never cried. He'd always thought that boys just don't cry. That boys can't cry. He watched in fascination as the tears sparkled in the moonlight and fell to the floor and he stopped pushing against Quatre. He just stared a moment, his lips parted, with a sad look in his eyes. 

Quatre removed his hand from Duo's chest and wiped his nose with a finger. He went to wipe the tears away from his face and the boy's hand shot out, stopping him. He stared at Duo strangely, and Duo stared back, still looking fascinated at the boy's eyes. Those tears. They were so wonderful. He forget everything he'd been feeling before, all of the thirst that had risen inside of him when he sensed the fear and adrenaline pumping through Quatre's blood. He forgot how long it had been since he'd fed and watched the last tear flow down Quatre's flushed cheek. 

Duo's grip held tight to Quatre's wrist as he reached out a hand and wiped his face, letting the salty teardrop settle on the tip of his finger. He stared at it a moment, then wiped it on his shirt. Then he wiped Quatre's other cheek free of tears and released his hand. 

"I'm sorry, Quatre," he said sadly. "I didn't mean to scare you, but you were already afraid." 

"Yeah," Quatre said, sniffing. "But you made it worse, going on a rampage about being God." 

"I'm sorry." 

Quatre stared at him and rubbed his nose again. 

"Like I said, I like you, Quatre. I don't ever want to hurt you." 

"It didn't seem that way a moment ago. You acted as if you were going to kill me." 

Duo looked at the floor. "I was." He felt Quatre's fear rising again and immediately grabbed his shoulder. "Don't be afraid again, please. I'm not going to, now that you've calmed down." 

"Well that's good!" Quatre laughed nervously, an insane laugh. He couldn't believe how strange the situation had become. 

"Quatre," Duo whispered, but it was not a menacing whisper, like before. It was a kind, understanding, and gentle sound. "I want you to stay with me forever." 

"What do you mean?" the boy asked nervously. 

Duo sat down on the wet floor, motioning for Quatre to do the same. "I guess it's time for me to stop beating around the bush, as they say." 

"Uh-huh," Quatre said as he sat down next to Duo and stared at his profile. 

"I guess it's time for me to tell you why I've lived so long." 

"Uh-huh." 

"Quatre, do you believe in vampires?" 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

Lights flashed viciously around the club while heavy music pounded through his body. He felt the vibrations pulsate within him and sat back in his chair, a pair of dark sunglasses shielding his cold stare. A drink sat untouched on the table in front of him, vodka and ice. He rubbed his fingers over the sweaty, cold glass. The ice had melted into the vodka, and he dare not drink it now. It would taste bitter and light and watery. The waitress came by and he pointed to his cup. She ran off to retrieve another one. 

There was a woman at the bar, early twenties, thin and attractive. Bleached hair tied up in a high ponytail that swung around when she shook her head and laughed. She was clinging to a young man, about the same age, wearing a business suit and tie. He was drunk, and willing to pay anything to go to bed with that girl right now. The boy watched as she slinked ever closer to his ear, nearly climbing up on his lap, and began whispering things. He concentrated and could hear the secretive conversation they were having. 

"Are you looking to have a good time tonight, honey?" she asked seductively. 

The man smiled drunkenly at the whore. "It wouldn't be bad," he answered slowly, slurring his words together. 

"You got money for a hotel room?" she asked before nibbling on his ear lobe. 

The man laughed stupidly at the girl. This was too good to be true. He nodded. "I got plenty. Pay day today..." 

The girl giggled childishly and ran her hands up and down his chest. "What do you want tonight?" she asked as her hand began to slide down the front of his pants. 

The man let out a tense, nervous sigh as he felt the sensations. 

"Can I get you anything else?" 

The boy looked up, slightly surprised. A new drink sat on the table in front of him and a scantily-clad waitress hovered above, carrying a small serving tray. He waved her away with his hand and she sneered. Some people could be so rude sometimes! 

"I want to fuck your brains out," the man whispered lightly, and the girl stood up. 

"Let's go, then," she said, straightening out her revealing tiger-skin dress. "There's a motel next door." She smiled. 

The man quickly downed the last drops of his drink and stood up, swaying slightly while he reached in his pants pocket for his wallet. 

The boy stood up as well, taking up his drink and twirling it around in his hand. He swallowed the entire cup in one gulp before walking over to the bar, stopping right behind the woman. He hovered over her shoulder, smelling the cheap perfume she had doused herself with just before coming here. 

The blonde felt a presence near her shoulder and turned around to see her own reflection staring at her from a pair of dark sunglasses. "Can I help you with something?" she asked politely, a strange thing to do in a place like this. 

"I'll pay you double," the boy said simply, and the girl stared. He certainly was strange. A tall man, taller than she, but his face looked so youthful and perfect, with a strong jawline. A large black coat over a green shirt and black pants. Surely he must be older than he looked, to be in a place like this, but his face looked so young. 

The man lurched foward at the boy, steadying himself on his shoulder. "Hey, man. I was here first. Take a number!" he belted loudly, breathing alcohol-tinged breath in the boy's face. He was unmoving. 

"I'll pay you double," he repeated. "How much were you going to get from this guy?" 

"I charge two-hundred for sex," she said calmly, as if she were telling the price of an old car she was trying to get rid of. 

"I'll give you five," the boy said, finally pushing the man's hand from his shoulder. 

"Six!" the man belted, steadying himself on the woman's shoulder now. 

"Seven," the boy said calmly. 

The man's eyebrow's knitted in anger. "Look here, you little faggot!" he screamed, taking a step foward and pressing his chest to the boy's. "I was here first! Get your own whore." He made the terrible mistake of pushing the boy hard in the chest. 

The boy took one step back, then returned to standing face to face with the man, glaring at him from behind the dark sunglasses. "I'm warning you," he said, clenching his teeth. "Do that again, and I shall have to hurt you." 

"Shall!?" the man screamed mockingly, his voice breaking and turning to a high-pitched screech. "You shall have to hurt me!" the man laughed. "Oh, please don't hurt me, little faggot! I'll be good from now on!" The man laid a hand on the boy's chest, ready to push him back again. The boy grabbed his wrist like a flash of lightning, holding it with a bone-crushing, iron grip. 

The man looked up, startled, and saw a pair of perfect, gleaming white teeth smirking at him through vicious lips. He tried to pull his hand away, but the boy held his wrist tight, squeezing it. The man felt the bones in his wrist begin to crack with the pressure and let out a terrified scream of pain. 

The boy wasn't through yet, though. He grabbed onto the bottom side of the man's elbow and pushed, hard and sharp, breaking the joint with a sickening snap. The man stared strangely at his deformed arm that was now bent backwards in the air. He didn't seem to know whether to pass out or scream madly. Taking this as a gesture that the man hadn't had enough yet, the boy pulled on the man's arm and pushed his shoulder so that he turned his back. He jerked on the arm, ripping the shoulder joint out of it's socket with a deep popping sound. That's when the man lost all sense and began screaming hysterically. All eyes nearby turned to face him as he fell to the floor, grasping his shoulder with his free hand. He looked a pathetic sight, one armed hanging limply at his side, its elbow seeming to defy the natural human structure, as he kicked around on the floor, shrieking with a blood-curdling scream. 

The boy smirked to himself, satisfied that he had caused a fair amount of pain to this man's body. He loved to see humans in pain. It excited him tremendously. He grabbed the blonde whore by the arm and led her out of the club quickly, and out onto the streets. A taxi cab went flying straight past his outstretched hand, and the boy snarled and glared at it. It's brakes squeeled loudly, then it began to back up. The man inside looked around strangely, as if he hadn't meant to put his car in reverse. 

He saw the boy and the woman standing next to his car, the boy seemed to be smiling evilly about something. "Sorry, guys! I didn't see you there!" he yelled through the open window across the passenger seat. The boy opened the back door, allowing the girl to climb in first and slide over. He sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulder protectively as she stared at him, mystified. 

"Where to?" the driver asked, looking through his rearview mirror at the strange couple. 

"A hotel," the boy said deeply, still glaring at the driver, who nodded and put his foot on the gas pedal. 

"How did you...?" the woman began to say, but stopped when the boy turned to look at her. He was not at all glaring, but he was still scary to look at, still threatening, though he wasn't trying to be. 

"How did I do that?" the boy said, finishing the girl's question for her. "Very easily," he said wryly, a small, thin smile waking on his pale lips. He leaned foward, until his face was inches from hers, and took a deep breath. That perfume she was wearing was simply tantilizing, and he began to wonder what it would taste like on her skin. 

The woman backed away slightly, only so that she could see him without her eyes getting blurred from the close proximity. 

"So, what's your name, honey?" she asked pleasantly, placing her hand seductively on his chest. 

"Doesn't matter," the boy said simply, his voice still deep and husky. 

The girl paused a moment, her hand still resting against his chest. It was cold, like ice. She could feel it through his shirt. 

"Don't you want to know my name, honey?" she asked playfully. 

The boy smirked at the woman. "Doesn't matter." 

"Well," the woman said palyfully, "to make things easier, you can just call me Joy, because I bring happiness to everyone I meet." 

The boy smiled at the blonde. "That was cute, real cute," he thought sarcastically to himself. He wondered if this woman came up with that by herself. She didn't seem to have the brains to make any sort of statement like that of her own accord. 

"Can't I have a name to call you?" she asked, slipping her fingers barely down the waist of his pants. 

"Whatever you like..." the boy said, and turned his head to stare out the window. 

"How about... Steven?" the boy looked at the girl strangely. "No? Maybe John? Lots of men use that name with me." 

"That's fine," the boy said, and rubbed a finger down the woman's soft, make-up saturated face. "Far too much eyeshadow,"   
he thought to himself as he looked at her eyes. They were a gorgeous, soft blue, with slight hints of green around the edges. A strange combination. 

"This place okay?" the driver asked loudly, waving to the two in the backseat. The boy stepped out of the car and stared at the large neon sign overhead. 

"Motel 7," it said. The light on the seven had gone out. "This will be fine," the boy said, grabbing a folded bill from his pocket and handing it to the man through the window. It was a hundred, and the boy didn't ask for change. 

"Thank you very much, sir!" the man shouted out the window at the retreating figure in the large overcoat. The woman stepped out of the car, straightened her dress, pushed up her cleaveage to its' maximum height, and waved to the driver. He waved back and drove off. 

The boy had already gone to the dimly lit window of the front office and slid another hundred through the hole in the bottom of the glass. The boy inside handed him a small key card and pointed the way to his room, corner of the building, second floor. The woman jogged to catch up to him, her cheap pumps clacking against the uneven asphalt parking lot. 

The boy nodded for her to hurry up and started walking to the room, his hands in the pockets of his overcoat. The wind blew aroung him, sending his black coat into a long flurry of waves, and the woman stared at him a moment. What was a sexy, attractive man like him doing picking up a cheap whore like her in the middle of the night? He was the kind of guy who should never have to pay for sex. She shrugged to herself and walked along behind him. If he was good in bed, she may just let this one be free. 

The boy stopped at the foot of the metal stairs and waited for the woman to catch up. She walked quickly, her breasts threatening to bounce out of the top of her tight dress and her hips swaying fiercely back and forth as her small purse jerked around from the strap in her hand. The boy smirked inwardly and licked his lips. She certainly was a tasty little morsel. He could tell from where he stood. Her scent wafted to his nose from at least twenty feet away. She finally caught up to him, her chest hefting up and down faster than usual. She brushed her bangs out of her face and let out a loud breath. "You certainly do walk fast," she laughed playfully. 

The boy took a step closer, closing the small distance between the two, and picked her up in her arms. She squeeled with delight. This man must be very strong. She felt as if she were nothing more than a feather, the way he lifted her in his arms. It was nice. "Feeling playful, John?" the woman asked. The boy smirked down at her as he deftly ascended the stairs and carried her to the room's door. He set her on the ground and inserted the card in the top of the locked door handle. The light turned from red to green, and he turned the handle and walked inside, flicking on the light switch on the wall. 

The girl took one step inside and was immediately blasted by icy cold air. It was like a freezer in the room, and she rubbed her bare arms. "Don't you think we should turn up the air in here?" she asked the boy, who was taking off his overcoat. He placed it neatly onto the back of the small chair to his left and turned around. "It's really cold." 

He smirked and watched her bounce up and down, shivering in the cold air, as she closed the door. "It feels fine to me, Joy," he said, walking across the room to her. He watched her luscious breasts jiggle with the bouncing and licked his lips. He'd never really been all that interested in breasts before, but hers were so pink and full, like large, soft gelatin molds. He wanted to sink his teeth into them and dine lustfully. 

"I'm cold!" she whined playfully, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her chest to his. "I'm going to turn of the air." 

She walked to the large AC box to her left and began searching for the switch. "Don't!" the boy said commandingly. She turned to him strangely. He had a playful smile on his lips. "I like it. Just climb under the covers," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder and leading her to the bed. "I'll warm you up." 

"How could you?" she thought to herself. "Your body's just as icy as this room." She remembered how cold his chest had felt, even through his shirt, and shivered inwardly. Joy pulled the bedspread and sheets down from the pillows and crawled under the blankets. Even the bed was cold, but she knew it would warm up soon. 

The boy hovered above the other side of the bed, staring down at her. He still wore his sunglasses and, thinking it strange, she asked him to take them off. "Why don't you take everything off and crawl in here with me? You said you would keep me warm, John." 

The boy sat down on the bed and stared at her from above the covers. "You want me to take the sunglasses off?" he asked, the tip of his index finger settling on the corner of the rim. 

Joy nodded playfully and sat up in the bed, waiting. The boy smirked to himself. He knew what her reaction would be when she saw his eyes. Everyone reacted the same way. He sighed, trying to sound annoyed at the notion, and got up to flip off the overhead light. 

"Now I won't be able to see your eyes!" Joy said, smirking playfully. The boy walked over and turned on the lamp on a nearby table, just enough light so that she would be able to see the color. He sat back on the bed next to her and took the sunglasses off, though his eyes were closed. Joy ran a finger down his nose and inched forward, trying to act as if her arms and chest weren't freezing, being out from under the blankets. "Why don't you open your eyes now, honey?" she asked, her hand settling on his smooth, cold cheek. The boy smirked and slowly opened his eyes. The girl gasped, mystified. They were the strangest color eyes she'd ever seen. A dark, prussian blue, but with a total, underlying tone of gray, or even, silver. It was like a silver platter that had been painted over with a thin, watery blue color. "Wow..." she whispered into the slience of the room, and the boy smirked again. Just like he'd thought she would do. He knew how powerful his eyes were on people, which is why he always kept them covered. "A few more hundred years," he thought to himself, "and they won't even have the blue. Just pure silver," he thought whistfully. 

The girl inched even closer, still staring mistily into the deep pools of silver and blue. She couldn't help but wonder if he were wearing contacts. But this guy wasn't the type to worry about jabbing contact lenses into his eyes on a daily basis. He didn't seem to care how attractive he was. He walked with an uncaring aura, as if nothing in the world would ever bother him, as if nothing was real, and nothing really mattered. He was just free. 

The boy smiled at the thoughts running through Joy's head. This girl was reading him better than he thought she would. He leaned closer to her face and kissed her soft red lips. He could taste the lipstick as his tongue slid into her mouth and revelled in the warmth therein. Her breath was fresh and minty, as if she had just eaten mints, and he liked the refreshing taste. He knew his breath was probably tasteless to her, nothing but cold. The boy wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and placed his palm in between her shoudler blades, pushing her closer until her breasts were, again, squished against her chest. He liked the soft, mushy feel they had. 

The boy stopped kissing her for a moment and took off his shirt. The girl stared at him, again mystified. His body was absolutely perfect. Excellent muscle tone, his stomach ribbed and masculine, his pectorals perfectly defined, even his shoulders and arms were perfect, their muscles jutting out underneath the skin. A small silver cross dangled from his neck on a beaded chain, but she ingored it. She couldn't wait to feel that wonderful body against her own, and she hurriedly undid the latch on the back of her dress, slinking out of it under the covers. 

The boy watched her take her dress off in the bed and smiled to himself again. Her perfect, luscious breasts were now fully exposed to him. Her tan nipples sat hard and erect in the center of them, and he felt the need to grab them and squeeze them hard to feel the flesh squish in between his fingers. He crawled into the bed and ontop of the woman, where he hovered over her, supporting himself with his hands on the mattress on either side of her shoudlers. Joy wrapped her arms around the mysterious boy's neck and carressed his muscled shoulders, his strong back. Oh, he was so beautiful, so perfect. The boy watched her breasts jiggle in waves with the movements. So tantalizing. 

He lowered his head to her neck and began to suck hungilry. Joy moaned with the sensations and clutched him tighter, digging one hand's fingernails into his flesh. "You like it rough, I see," she moaned out in between sharp breaths. She'd never been turned on like this before. She'd done this for years now, since she was fourteen, and it had become so mechanical to her. Screw them, take their money, leave, and find someone else to screw. That was all it was to her anymore. But this man, he was different. His soft caresses, his light squeeze on her right breast. This boy wanted to make love, not just fuck. He wanted to hear her scream in pleasure, and with the way he was going now, that goal may not be far off. She could feel the hot, tingly sensation gather between her legs, though he'd never thrust against her once. She wasn't even sure if he was at all erect, if he could ever enter her. She was feeling on the verge of climax simply from his touch. 

The boy stopped sucking on her neck and stared at her a moment, her eyes closed in the midst of passion. She looked lovely now, so delicious. He kissed the flesh of her neck, and down between her breasts, giving them each a light squeeze with his hands. He went further down, kissing her warm, soft stomach. She was thin, but not at all muscled. Her skin moved freely and lushly over the small muscles in her belly. He found her naval and probed his tongue inside it, then circled it. His icy tongue was so fresh against her sweat-laden skin, she cried out in ecstasy. This boy was too much for her senses, and her mind swirled and dipped in the pleasure. 

The boy lowered his head further, his mouth trailing a path of kisses down between her legs. He nudged his nose against the soft, swollen flesh there. Her smell was so intense at this point, it was making even him lose his grasp of sanity. His tongue licked and tasted the bitter-sweet, moist flesh of her body. It darted back and forth quickly, titallating her and making her legs twitch as she thrust her hips forward, closer to his mouth. He penetrated her body, his icy tongue sliding in and out as his fingers seperated and toyed deftly. 

Joy cried out in pure rapture. She'd never felt things like this before. She'd never had any man use his mouth on her. She'd always been the one forced to please others. This boy was pleasing her, though. Not caring about his own pleasure. She thought she'd spoken too soon when the boy's tongue stopped licking and darting and he brought his mouth back up to hers for a kiss. She could taste herself on his cold lips. It was a strange taste, slightly sour, with an acidic tinge. She almost liked it, and it seemed to numb her mouth slowly. 

The boy sighed into her mouth, passion in his breath. It was a slight sigh, though. Not loud and obnoxious like most men. It was kind and gentle, somewhat comforting. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and lowered himself closer to her body. That's when Joy realized how excited he'd become. She could feel the hard, smooth shaft between his legs rub against her thigh and immediately find its destination, penetrating her body quickly. 

"Wait!" she screamed out, panicking. "We've got to use protection!" She pushed on his shoulder, trying to get him to pull out of her. She couldn't risk getting diseases from this boy, and God knows they were everywhere these days. John laughed into her shoulder, then lifted his head, glaring at her blue-green eyes. 

"No need to worry about that!" he said gruffly, still smiling a threatening smile. 

Joy stared at him strangely and squirmed underneath the weight of his body. He sat up quickly, pushing her legs apart with his own, and hefted her weight onto his lap, all while remaining inside her. "What do you mean!?" Joy asked, still trying to pull away, but this boy was so strong, it was like fighting against the metal bars of a prison cell, totally unmoving. 

The boy started sucking on Joy's neck again, using his own strength to slide her along his length. For some odd reason, the boy sucking her neck made her suddenly forget everything she'd been worrying about, and she pressed her body closer to his, now moving up and down of her own will. It felt so good, she never wanted it to stop. She was barely aware of a light stick of pain in her neck and, thinking he'd simply nipped her in a moment of pleasure, she continued to bask in the feelings rushing through her body. She was so close to climax now, she could think of nothing else. Her vision began to blur, and she closed her eyes tightly to keep herself from worrying about it. The pleasure was so grand, the boy sucking ferociously on her neck while her entire lower half tingled from the sensations within her. Just as she was reaching her peak, and ready to cry out with the feeling, she felt the boy's body begin to warm in her arms, and thought it strange. Her mind became distracted for an instant, and she realized that the sucking on her neck was becoming vicious and painful. She made a sound of discomfort, hoping he would notice, but he continued, breathing heavily. 

"Hey, honey," she said, loosening her grip on his shoulders, "that's starting to hurt a bit. Do you think you could move that sexy mouth to another area?" 

The boy growled into her neck, and she began to worry. She pushed at his shoulders now, trying to get his attention, and realized how weak she was feeling. She felt light-headed and sick to her stomach, like she'd not eaten for days and just been forced to exert a lot of energy that she just did not have. "John, that's really starting to hurt me!" she cried, her hand coming to his head and pulling at his hair. 

The boy growled and took his mouth away. His eyes were glaring at her from under his brow, but a large smile was on his lips and she noticed, in the dim moonlight that barely snuck through the thick curtains, that his mouth was darker than usual. It seemed to be tinged with some black smudge. What had that boy been doing to her? 

John laughed at the girl. It began as a chuckle and slowly rose in his chest and throat, releasing itself as a sickening, gut-wrenching bellow. The girl took the golden opportunity and lept from his lap, crawling backwards away from him to the foot of the bed. She searched violently for the light switch on the wall next to the bed. The boy got on his knees and hands and inched closer, still smiling, the darkness still covering his mouth and chin. Joy found the switch and flipped it on, the illuminescent bulb flooding the room with light. The boy immediately covered his eyes from it and sank back. "Turn that off!" he screamed in pain. 

Joy stared at him, totally terrified. There was blood seeping from his mouth and flowing down his chin. She sat in shock a moment before slowly turning her head and looking down at where he had been suckling. She shrieked in pure terror, for her entire left shoulder was covered in blood. Her blood. 

Joy stood from the bed and her legs, being so weak from loss of blood, gave out on her. She fell to the floor and stared up fearfully at the boy, who stared back at her from behind his arm that shielded the light from his eyes, still smiling that eerie and deadly smile. Joy screamed again, hoping someone would hear her and come to her rescue. Panicked, she hefted herself to her feet, swaying with dizziness. The boy watched as her large breasts jiggled around again, and smiled even wider. This was more fun than he had hoped for. The weakened woman meandered toward the door, not worrying about gathering up her clothes, but the boy was immediately in front of her, as if he had appeared there, blocking her exit. 

She stumbled backwards and fell onto the carpetted floor as the boy watched her breasts bounce with the impact. He smiled. The girl screamed and lifted her weak body to her feet again. She ran to the bathroom and tried to close the door, but the boy's hand was between it and the wooden fame, and it was slowly, effortlessly, pushing it open. No matter how hard she pushed, the door continued to open, wider and wider. She screamed again and pushed against the countertop. The door still moved at the same speed. Then it reached a point and stopped. The girl continued to push, putting all her weight into it, then the door flew open, sending her face first to the floor. Her body didn't seem to want to move anymore and she lay there, staring at the blue and white tiles in front of her. She was frozen with fear. 

"Don't give up now, Joy!" the man said teasingly, adding an extra tinge to her prostitute name. "The fun... has only begun." He laughed viciously, sending chills down the girl's spine. She flipped herself over on the floor and glared up at him, though she didn't feel as if it would do any good. The man was totally nude in front of her, and slowly advancing. It was a fearful sight, indeed, as he cracked his knuckles at his chest, where the ancient, silver cross was pulsating with a red light. 

Joy began to scoot away from him, kicking her heels against the slippery tile floor. The boy was immediately ontop of her again, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand. His features were twisted and distorted, as if he were possessed by some evil demon, and he laughed in her face again. 

Joy shrieked with fear as the boy entered her again, thrusting hard and painful into her body. Not only was he sucking her blood, he was raping her! She fought against him with all the strength she had, but he was totally unhindered. He lowered his head and continued to suck her large wound, the blood filling his mouth with rapture better than sex. He moaned at the sensations as the thick elixir travelled down his throat and continued to warm his frozen body. 

Slowly, the girl stopped fighting against him. She had lost all of her strength, and she lay helpless on the floor, feeling her very soul travel out of her body and into the boy's mouth. She was unmoving, simply staring at the wall of the bathroom. The edges where the floor met the wall had small specks of mildew, and she wondered if they ever bothered to clean down there. She stared at a single spot as her vision faded out, until that mildew stain was all she could see. She no longer felt her body draining, or the lustful boy thrusting inside her. Then her vision went totally black and she closed her eyes to die. 

The boy sucked every last drop out of Joy. She was just as sweet as he had imagined her to be. Like a vintage wine. He didn't want to stop, but her body now lay dead underneath her. He thrust one final time inside her, tightening all of his muscles as he climaxed. After a moment, he relaxed onto her, letting go of her wrists. She would have looked as if she were asleep, were she not so sunken in. Her cheekbones were protruding from her face and her eyes were sunken in. The boy kissed her lightly on the cheek, smearing her own blood there. 

He smiled and stood up, stretching as if he'd just woken up from a long, refreshing nap. He washed his face in the sink, mesmerized by the red water that flowed down the drain, then went back into the bedroom, where he put his shirt and coat on, placed the sunglasses on his face, smirked to himself in the mirror above the dresser across the room, and turned off all the lights. The boy left the room, closing the door behind him, and descended the stairs. He checked his watch. The whole ordeal had taken a bit more than an hour, and he praised himself for his swiftness. He returned the key card to the man behind the glass window of the front desk and walked back to the street, where he waved down a taxi. 

"Where to?" the driver asked when he climbed in the back. 

The boy thought for a moment as the driver stared at him in the rearview mirror. He was only a young boy, sixteen, barely seventeen, with a pair of dark glasses shielding his eyes. What was such a young boy doing out this late? 

The driver gave up on waiting for him to decide and pulled back onto the fairly deserted road. "I think I'd like to go to a bar," the boy said from the backseat, but his voice was not at all what he would have expected it to be. It was far more deep than he would have imagined, sounding very mature. The driver grunted to himself. "How absurd!" he thought to himself. "This little boy wants to go to a bar!? He'd never get in. He's far too young!" The driver looked in the rearview mirror, expecting to give him a disapproving glare, and did a double-take at the sight. It was not the same little boy of just seconds earlier. He was far older, mid-twenties, at least. His face was youthful, but defined, like an adult's face. The driver shrugged to himself, quickly forgetting what he'd seen a moment earlier, playing it off as a trick of the light. "I know the perfect place, sir," he said pleasantly as he made a left turn on highway 19.   
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Kyuketsuki Jigoku   
(Vampire Hell)   
Chapter Four: Kage Ai no Aru o Sugite Hitotsu no   
(Beyond the Shadow of a Love)   
  


The girl's thoughts raced through her mind as she changed from the blood-drenched clothes into the fresh, crisp, clean ones. She had snuck into a dark house, sensing no one was home, and immediately ran to the bathroom and took a warm shower. She felt so dirty and evil after she had fed, and guilt washed over her like a massive tidal wave. Now, she stood in front of the full-length mirror inside the closet door and admired her new attire: a blue, sleeveless, ribbed turtleneck, small navy blue skirt, a bit too short for her taste, but it covered enough, and white knee socks under her old shoes. Whomever lived here had large feet, and she was unable to fit their shoes, so she'd scrubbed the dry, crusty blood dutifully away and slipped them back on. 

Relena sighed to herself and dropped her hands from her waist, sinking her shoulders into her spine. How had Dou found her, anyway? She then realized, while staring at her own bright blue eyes in the mirror, that she knew nothing about being a vampire. She knew nothing about how the older vampires think, how they develop their powers, how she could eventually develop her own, and control them. She knew only that she had a thirst inside her mind and body and soul, a thirst that would spring to life at least every other week, and she would have to drink the blood of a living human to quench it, only to have it rise again. Being around excitement increased the thirst. Happiness, fear, anger, jealousy, any strong emotion, even love, would cause the thirst to rise suddenly, and she would unknowingly set her sights on the bearer of these emotions, killing them swiftly and painfully and draining them of their life-blood. 

What sort of advice had her master, her creator, the person responsible for her eternal hell on earth, given her? None, none whatsoever. "Well," she thought to herself, running her fingers through her sandy blonde hair, "He did tell me a few things." 

"Always drink the blood of a freshly killed human, stay away from those with drugs in their system. Their blood is bitter and unsatisfying. As you grow older, you will notice changes: the need to feed more often, your face and body will lose its fleshy colors, your eyes will take on a silvery undertone. Don't be alarmed, for this is natural. It's a way for your body to adapt to your new being; your dislike of the light, and the sun." He'd recited these words of advice like a prepared speech, so calm, so cold and unanimated. 

"Where did vampires come from?" she had asked, sobbing. She'd been changed into a demon, and now she would be forced to live like one, killing humans mercilessly and without punishment to survive. She had never asked for this. She never wanted it. She was forced into it. Die, or live forever. That was her choice. Had she known the hell of a half-life, half-death she would be given, she would have chosen to die that day. 

Her creator had laughed out loud, and she remembered the sound as it echoed off of the walls of the small cave they had occupied during the birth, as he called it. It echoed in her mind still, nearly two-hundred years after it had occurred. "That," he had said, pointing his long, slender finger directly at her nose, "is something I can't tell you." 

"Why?" 

"Because even I don't know that." 

She wished so much that she could remember who had made her, his face, at least. The memory seemed to be incessantly blocked from reaching the surface of her mind. All that remained with her were the words he had spoken, not even his voice. Only the words themselves. She could place no sound to their being. 

"You're leaving me now?" she heard her memory repeat to the darkness that had hovered above her in the cave. 

"Of course I am," he had said laughingly. "You can't expect me to stay with you forever." He'd placed a comforting hand on her cheek, and it had been so cold, like ice, she had shivered. 

"But I love you! I love you more than anything!" she had clawed at his hand, hoping to keep it attached to her shoulder forever and never let him leave her. 

"It's only temporary," he'd answered knowingly. "In a few years, you will hate everything about me. You will hate every word I have spoken. A few years later, you will block the memories from your mind, because you won't want anything to do with me..." 

"That's not true! I will always love you!" she sobbed shamelessly, hoping he would stay, if only out of pity, but he slowly removed his hand from her grasp. It had seemed to fade out of its own content, out of being, for a moment. She could not hold it, nor could she feel it as it was pulled away. 

"And in a few more years," he continued, "You will never again be able to remember my face." 

Relena sighed to herself. He had been somewhat right. She'd hated him years later. She'd sworn revenge, in fact. He never told her she would do that. Years after that, she had known their was something driving her quest to kill all vampires, and only a whisp of knowledge enlightened her. It had something to do with her creator, how he had treated her. But she never forgot his words, as he had said she would do. She would not allow herself to forget. For she knew, deep within her mind, that no matter how much she hated him, she would still love him somewhat. And, eventually, years and years later, she had forgotten his face. She'd forgotten the exact color of his eyes, how they had sparkled in the pale moonlight that had crept in through a crevice of the cave. She forgot the shape of his face, the way he smiled, the sound of his voice. She did not regret forgetting what he looked like. She didn't need to know, for at this point, there was no longer an ounce of feeling for this man, besides pure and utter hate. She would never try to drag up the memories of him, save for recognizing his face before she kills him, but she would never, never forget his words. 

Everything he had said to her would be remembered, so that she would remember the reasons for her hunt. 

"I don't want to be a vampire! Vampires aren't real!" 

"Then why do you, at this very moment, thirst for my blood?" 

"I don't know... because I love you, and I want your very soul..." 

"My soul belongs to another." 

"Tell me you love me." 

"I do not." 

"How can you not? How can you be so cold? How can you not care about me? Do I mean nothing to you?" 

"Nothing more than an addition to my race." 

"Why did you give me a choice to live or die, if you don't care?" 

He had laughed again, as if the question she had asked was meant as a joke. He didn't seem to take anything she said or asked seriously. Everything about her was a joke. He had played around with her, toyed with her mind, convinced her, without words, that he loved her, and now he was telling her that she was stupid for thinking something that outrageous. He could never love her. "Look at yourself, Relena. I hate to admit it, but you are beautiful. Blonde hair and blue eyes, fair skin. Your eyes will look lovely when they turn silver, your hair will accent your skin when it fades into a reflective and pale white. You have something deep within your spirit, as well." 

"What?" 

"You have an instinct." 

"An instinct? For what?" 

"Murder." 

Relena had stared at him in utter shock for a few moments. She could never view herself as a killer. She believed in peace and kindness. Violence could never solve any problems, murder would only enhance them. How could this boy make such outrageous claims? "I don't know what you mean! I'm not a murderer! I could never hurt anyone." 

"You think that, only because you have never been pushed to that point. You will be. The thirst will eventually drive you mad, and make you kill someone, and you will kill them so viciously, you won't believe, afterward, that you've done it. You will grow to love the killing." 

He had been right. The thirst had bubbled inside her for weeks, even months. She'd finally lost all sense of where she had been going, and was wandering around on an empty street in a very bad, unclean neighborhood, searching for any fresh body that might be meandering around in the middle of the night. She'd found a young girl and boy who had run out in the middle of the night to be together. They sat in a car, kissing and fondling each other. She'd ripped the car door from its very hinge and killed them both viciously, screaming as if she were mad. The blood had splattered and stained the windshield, and afterward, when she had regained her thoughts, she stared at the remnants of her victims lying on her lap, and screamed. 

She hated that memory. She had never since let her thirst get to that point. She tried to never let the rage take control. It happened every once in a while, though. She stared at the soiled, blood-stained clothes that sat in a heap on the bathroom floor. Every once in a while, things would drive her to that point. Most often, though, her killings were swift and painless. At least, she hoped they were. 

Relena, finally satisfied with her new outfit, gathered up her old clothes and put them in a small plastic bag she'd found in the cabinet underneath the bathroom sink. She checked her new hairstyle in the mirror a moment, smoothed back a few loose strands, then left the bedroom. When she was out of the house, and again breathing in the fresh night air, she felt herself relax greatly. Her muscles were so tense these days. She had not had much rest lately, always afraid to let herself fall into the blanket of a vampiric sleep. She was too worried that someone would find her. And now, on top of all of this, she had to worry about something else: Duo. That boy seemed to know far too much about her. She felt his eyes on her constantly, ever since she had met him that day. She knew he wanted her dead. She knew he would try to kill her. She knew she had to be prepared, and always alert. 

The night shrouded her as she tossed the soiled clothes into a garbage can on the street, and, wrapping her arms tightly around her chest, continued walking, searching for something to occupy the hours before sunrise. 

~~~~~~~~ 

"How many others have you created?" 

"A few." 

"How many?" 

"Seven." 

"You mean, there are at least seven more vampires?" 

"Not anymore." 

"What do you mean? What happened to them?" 

"They were killed." 

"How many are left, then?" 

"Only two." 

"Two?" 

"Yes." 

"But with me..." 

Duo turned around and stared at Quatre. He looked a bit shaken after what he had just been told, but slightly intrigued, nonetheless. "There will be three of us." Quatre smiled at him proudly, and Duo found himself walking towards him. He knew his intentions for this boy were horrible. He knew that after he created his new life, he would have to make him leave. Quatre would hate him. Quatre would want to kill him, just like all of the others he had created. They all wanted him dead. It was fun for a few years, killing together, but his children tired of him, and left. Duo never saw them again after they did. He felt in his soul when they were destroyed. He knew when he had lost another child, but he never let the pain he felt get to him. He brushed it off, knowing that he could easily go out and make another. 

"Okay," Quatre said, grasping his hands tightly in front of him. Duo was so close to him again. It was making him feel uncomfortable. He could feel the boy's eyes boring into the top of his lowered head. "I'll do it." 

Duo rubbed the boy's head lovingly. His hair was so soft, it flowed through his fingers and fell immediately back into place. "Are you sure?" he asked, still rubbing his head. He could smell the boy's shampoo. 

Quatre looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. He'd never had another boy stroke his hair before. Duo was so friendly, almost as if her were flirting, toying with him. Quatre was so attracted to him now, with him standing so close, touching his hair so tenderly, he felt ready to jump into the boy's arms and kiss him. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to know what it would feel like to have his ice cold body tight against his own. "I'm sure, Duo," he breathed out, nearly a whisper. His nerves would dare not let him speak louder. The sound may ruin the moment. 

Duo looked down into the boy's eyes, and his flushed cheeks. He felt awful. This young child was already falling in love with him. Poor thing. "It happens to everyone," he mused to himself, still stroking the boy's head. He touched his warm cheek and felt the heat against his hand. It warmed his palm, and he liked the feeling. So soft... "everyone falls in love with me. It's just that I'm a vampire. They can't help it." Duo cleared his thoughts away from his mind and concentrated on the mortal before him. The mortal who's eyes were sparkling brilliantly with fascination and expectation. 

"Close your eyes, young one," he breathed softly. Quatre was chilled by the icy words and the icy breath, but he complied, letting his soft lashes shield his vision only for a moment before tightening his lids. "Now, give me your hand." Quatre lifted his hand, palm up, to Duo's face, and the boy held it tightly in his own. He brought it to his mouth, giving the wrist one cold kiss before sinking his teeth into it. Quatre drew in his breath painfully. Duo bit harder and slid his mouth quickly across the fresh skin, ripping a large hole in the once perfect flesh. Quatre jerked his hand away and opened his eyes, staring at Duo, his mouth dripping a bit with the fresh, warm blood. 

Quatre held his injured wrist to his chest, his shirt soaking up the blood as it trickled down his arm. "What did you do that for?" he inquired, looking fearfully at the smiling eyes before him. 

Duo grinned a bit, a strange smile, accented by the tinge of blood on his teeth. He brought his own wrist to his mouth, bit down upon it, and jerked his head through his own flesh. A sickening, blackish blood began to ooze and seep from the wound. It didn't flow freely like Quatre's. It merely bubbled to the surface and quickly began to repair the injury. 

Duo held out his wrist in front of the boy's face. "Drink," he commanded, and Quatre stared at him warily. "If you want this to happen, then drink. Now!" Quatre released his own wrist and grabbed Duo's arm with his other hand. He took one final glance at the boy hovering over him before lowering his mouth onto the blood. 

Duo smiled and watched as the boy lapped at the wound a moment, then attached himself securely, sucking thirstily. It felt odd, having someone drain you of your blood, but no more strange than the many other times he'd been fed upon. It was as if someone were drawing your very soul out of your body, leaving you with nothing but an empty shell. Duo laughed softly to himself. To actually think to himself that he would have a soul... how very unlikely. 

Quatre was experiencing pure ecstasy at this moment, taking the cold, salty blood into his mouth and swallowing it in huge gulps. It coated his throat in a thick film, and filled his stomach quickly, spreading through his entire body with a fierce chill. At first, he'd felt almost ill, tasting the blood on his tongue, forcing himself to swallow it. Now, though, he was enjoying it, and he ignored the fact that his free hand still was bleeding, and the droplets were steadily falling to the floor, creating a pool of crimson at his feet. He ignored the way Duo was wincing uncomfortably, almost moaning, and the slight laugh that followed the sounds. Everything was drowned out and engulfed in the pure, hazy feeling of this soul-filling meal he'd been given. 

Duo concentrated intently on his own heartbeat, no longer daring to moan in discomfort, fearing he may miss his internal cue. When he heard his own, dull heartbeat begin to slow dramatically, he pulled his arm, slowly taking his wrist away from the boy who so eagerly tried to hold tight to it. Duo placed his hand on Quatre's, still attached to his arm. "Wait a moment, young one," he said soothingly. "You don't want to kill me, do you?" Quatre shook his head and stared at him blankly. Oh, how he craved the taste of that boy's blood in his throat! Duo reached weakly for Quatre's bleeding wrist, and the boy offered it without protest. He took it hungrily in his mouth, feeding on the boy's essence, reveling in it, and regaining his lost strength. Quatre, now, moaned in discomfort. He felt as if someone were pulling out his heart through his wrist. He could feel his veins and arteries being tugged at through the wound, and they ached in protest. Duo was completely unhindered by the young boy's wincing. He sucked viciously, aching for the grand warmth that traveled down his throat. It warmed him, and made him feel renewed. It gave him strength again. Strength, he knew, he would need, to feed this tender morsel in front of him. 

As he felt his body warm slightly with the fresh young blood, he nearly lost himself. But he knew he could not take this boy's life, no matter how eager he may feel toward the action. He wanted this boy to become one of his own. Killing him now would only satisfy his thirst for a few days. It would be pointless. He willingly kept his thoughts about him, forcing himself to count the gulps and swallows, to listen to and feel the heartbeat intently. When it began to slow slightly, he withdrew his mouth, wanting so badly to continue with the crisp taste. He knew he mustn't. He took a deep breath and shook his head to regain his thoughts before looking down at the boy. 

Quatre was barely able to keep himself upright, swaying drunkenly with the loss of blood. His knees were weak, and they trembled beneath him. He looked up at Duo mournfully, his eyes having lost that spark of life they had once laid claim to. Duo looked sadly towards the boy a moment, before releasing his arm and letting it flop down lifelessly at his side. 

He savored the warm feeling inside him a moment more before bringing his own wrist to his mouth. The wound he'd cut into himself had already healed, and only a light scar remained, as if it had been years since the wound was sealed. It had been merely ten minutes, at most. He grudgingly ripped another gash into his wrist with his teeth and the thick, old blood oozed forth from the newly sliced wound. He held it up to the weak boy again, and he took the arm gratefully, bringing it to his mouth and sucking with all the strength left to him. The blood was warm now, he noticed. Warmed from his own blood. It tasted slightly fresher now, not as bitter as before. A slightly sweet taste, and it filled his stomach even more pleasantly than before. He could immediately feel the blood seeping through the walls of his chilled stomach and enter into his own veins. Luxurious... so luxurious. So wonderful... He sucked and lapped at the wound for as long as Duo could stand it, taking every drop gratefully and savoring the sweet tinge it left in his taste buds when the wrist was withdrawn. 

Duo fell back against the rotten pew behind him, and it nearly collapsed with his weight. He had let this youth take too much of him. He was becoming far too weak. He would have to stop giving so much, and worry more about taking. Quatre needn't be told what to do this time. He walked over to the weakened vampire and held out his wrist. It was still seeping blood, but not so much as before. It seemed to be already healing. Duo took the wrist as gratefully as Quatre had taken his, and pulled it to his mouth. He again felt the blood enter his stomach. It was so warm, and he savored it as if he hadn't fed in decades. It rejuvenated his strength once more. Strength, he knew, that he would have to again offer up to the youth. 

~~~~~~~~ 

Finally, the sun began to rise over the trees in the distance. The sunrise cast strange shadows over the grass at her feet, and she immediately felt the warmth when the orange and yellow gave way to the full-on brightness of the sun. Relena watched as life slowly began to return to the streets about her. She sat on the same bench she had been at only a few days ago. The park bench in the center of the bustling city where she had met Duo. The small, stocky man who owned the ice cream cart slowly wheeled his merchandise onto the same spot on the sidewalk across the street. 

Relena sighed to herself. She knew she had to go back to Duo's little hideaway in the alleys. She had left her book, and her backpack, in that cubby-hole of a room. Those two boys had frightened her so much, had shaken up her nerves, to the point that she had lost all reasoning. Yet, how could she have been so stupid as to leave something of so much significance in that hell-hole? If Duo found that backpack... if he searched through it... if he found out its contents... Hell on Earth would be a pure possibility for her. She hugged her arms tightly about her chest. How could she have been so ill-witted? 

The book shop across the street opened up. The same plump, balding man she had met there turned the "closed" sign in the window around, revealing the word, "OPEN," and she smiled to herself. "Life continues so normally for these people," she whispered silently. "They know nothing of us. They believe they have no reason to fear the dark. They have no reason to glance over their shoulders when they hear the footsteps of our race rapidly approaching." 

Relena stood up slowly. She was feeling ever more weary from the days without pure sleep. She set her mind straight, allowing herself to digest only the thoughts of Duo's secretive lair. It was day now. Duo was an older vampire. Older vampires prefer to sleep during the day. He would most certainly be in that room now. If he was, and he was veiled in the thick, woolen blanket of sleep, she could easily sneak in and retrieve the backpack and the book. If he were asleep on the bed... No, she shouldn't think like that. It would be far too fanciful of her to believe that killing him would be so easy. She'd killed others in their sleep, certainly, but this one was different. He seemed to know everything that was going on around him. Even while he slept, she was sure, he had someone watching over him. Killing him, the final vampire, would not be as easy as she would have ever wished for.   



	5. Chapter 5

Kyuketsuki Jigoku   
(Vampire Hell)   
Chapter Five: Fukai na Giron   
(Unpleasant Discourse)

The sun had risen all too early for the two boys still sleeping uncomfortably in the rotten, worn-down church. It crept upon them slowly, peering in stealthily above the windowsill. It then fledged an all-out attack on Duo, making him squint his eyes in his light sleep. He threw an arm over his face, blocking out the pure rays shining through the window, and moaned in discomfort. 

The old pew he slept on creaked underneath his weight, and a few of the more loose pieces of wood broke off from the edge and sprinkled to the floor in a light mist, landing on the chest of the small boy lying next to him on the floor. Quatre had refused to sleep in a pew, fearing it may give way at any moment during his sleep, and had opted for the floor. He sighed lightly and brushed the dust from his off-white shirt, fully awake. "Duo?" he strained to talk. He had never felt so thirsty in his life. It was as if he'd been trudging through the dryness of desert sand all his life, without a drop of water. 

Duo mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep and rolled over to face Quatre, the pew creaking and spraying more dust to the floor. "Wha-?" he inquired sleepily, scratching his nose with the back of his hand. 

Quatre admired him soundlessly. He was like some cute little stuffed animal while he was asleep. Who would ever believe that he'd killed thousands upon thousands of innocent people to survive? Who would ever believe that he was so aged? Twelve-hundred, thirty-six years, plus. That was old. "I'm thirsty," Quatre croaked out, rubbing at the ache in his throat. It was so dry and itchy, he just could not stand it anymore. 

Duo sat bolt upright, smiling. "Oh yeah!" he said excitedly, seeming to have suddenly gained a great amount of energy. He reached into one of the pockets of his jacket and pulled out a large bottle of red wine. Quatre gasped. His jacket was far too small to fit anything of that size. Then he gasped again as Duo produced two long-stemmed drinking glasses from the same pocket, smiling a sly smirk the whole while. He handed a lone glass to Quatre, popped the cork on the wine bottle, and slowly poured the thick red substance into his flask. 

Quatre gulped down the liquid quickly, feeling it coat his throat as the blood had done the night before. He held out his glass for more, wiping his chin with one hand and breathing heavily. "How did you do that?" he asked in between breaths as Duo refilled his glass. 

The boy smirked again, watching intently as the wine sank into the other's cup. "Magic," he answered off-handedly. Quatre stared at him strangely a moment before putting the glass back to his lips and drinking it down as quickly as the first. He could not seem to get enough of the strangely bitter-salty, but sweet liquid. The thirst was consuming him from the inside out. He held out his glass for more. Duo poured it absentmindedly this time. "You'd be surprised some of the things you can do, when you get older." 

Quatre knitted his brow a moment. "Like what?" he asked as he took the full flask to his lips for the third time. 

"Well, for one," Duo said, pouring himself his own glass of wine, "you can change the way you look." 

After finishing his third drink off, Quatre swallowed heavily. His throat was less dry now, but he still needed more. He held out his glass. "What do you mean?" 

Duo laughed a bit, shaking the bottle of wine on the edge of the boy's glass. It clinked a glassy sound and the wine spilled over onto Quatre's hand. He ignored it, letting it drip onto the floor. "Want me to show you?" Duo asked him, raising his eyes to a menacing type of glare that was shielded by his feminine eyebrows. His head still lowered, he smiled, revealing his straight teeth. 

Quatre stared at him warily and shrank back. "I... I'm not sure. Do I want you to?" 

Duo laughed again, but this time, it was more of a free laugh. Not menacing and low like before. "Look," he said, putting the wine glass on the pew next to him. He closed his eyes a moment, and a light wind began to blow through the church. It whipped the boy's long bangs around his face and his braid waved to a melancholy rhythm. Quatre watched as the boy seemed to change slightly. His hair turned to a midnight black, his legs grew slightly longer, his chest stretched, his arms lengthened, and his shoulders widened. It was a strange sight, and Quatre backed away slightly. Duo's eyes were still closed, and the wind was still blowing. Quatre backed even further away on the floor. "Okay, Duo," he said softly, not wanting to sound scared. The wind continued to blow, and the boy's hair changed from midnight black to a bright red. "Duo!" Quatre shouted, panicking. 

Duo opened his eyes sharply, and the wind stopped as quickly as it had begun. Quatre looked closely. His eyes were green, his hair was red, and he looked much older, at least in his thirties. This was not an illusion. It was not. "How...?" 

"Quatre," the boy said jokingly. It was the same voice as before, yet it sounded so alien coming from the different body. "It is an illusion." he snapped his fingers in the air and the strange colors disappeared. He was back to his normal body size, and his eyes and hair had returned to their original color. Quatre stared in awe, ignoring the wine glass that still dangled precariously between his thumb and forefinger. "You'll be able to do this too, in a few hundred years." 

Quatre shook his head rapidly, trying to clear his thoughts. "A few hundred years!" he thought to himself, dropping the wine glass on the wooden floor. "A few hundred years! I'm going to be alive... forever!?" Realization suddenly hit, and he began to regret what they had done the night before. 

Duo lifted the wine-filled glass to his lips. "You'll be able to see through other vampires' illusions in a few days," he said, before taking a sip and smacking his lips childishly. "But only bodily illusions," he stated, correcting himself. "See, there's physical and mental illusions. When a vampire changes his body, that's a physical illusion. When you put an idea into someone's head, that's a mental. Got it?" Quatre nodded. "Unless their powers are stronger than yours, they will never be able to tell the difference between your mental suggestions and reality." 

"Why?" Quatre asked. He looked down and finally noticed the glass on the wooden floor. He picked it up and held it out to Duo for yet another refill. "Why can we see through the bodily ones, and not the mental?" 

Duo looked thoughtful a moment, then smiled. "I don't know! I'm guessing it has something to do with recognizing other vampires. If you see someone who looks completely out of place, just as you would, were you in your normal body, you'd automatically guess that they were a vampire." 

Quatre nodded in agreement. It seemed like a logical enough explanation. "Um, Duo...?" he trailed of warily. 

"Hm?" Duo asked while gulping down his wine. 

"Why do I need to know all of this, if there's only you and me and one other?" 

Duo nearly choked on his wine with laughter. He clutched his palm to his mouth, trying not to release a flush of the red liquid onto the poor boy on the floor at his feet. "Well, see...," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm not sure if we are the only ones." 

"What!?" Quatre shrieked. Had this boy been lying to him the whole time? He had thought it would be simply he and Duo against the world, for all eternity. But there were others... 

"You can only sense the presence of vampires younger than yourself. It's a strange connection. Since I am one of the oldest, I came to the conclusion, when I felt all but one of my children die, that her and I were the only ones left." 

"So, unless there's someone older than you..." 

"Which is highly unlikely." 

"Then it's just you and me?" 

"Correct." 

"And one other?" 

"Right." 

"A girl?" 

"Relena," Duo whispered bitterly as he ground his teeth. "By far, my biggest example of the poor choices I've made in the past." 

"What do you mean?" 

"She's my creation." 

~~~~~~~~   


It was early morning still when Relena was finally able to find Duo's hideout again. She'd apparently taken a wrong turn, because it had taken over an hour to find it. She traveled down the now familiar corridor, and turned the corner into the open room. Everything was as she remembered. The fires were still burning in the rusted barrels, and the music still screamed at her from the large stereo system. Some people were awake, but the majority of them were sleeping on the floor, some of them in large groups. 

Relena sneered at the sight. How could these humans stand to live in such deplorable conditions? It was disgusting. Trash everywhere, rats running around freely, cockroaches and spiders. She sighed to herself and silently entered the hall, hoping not to draw any attention to herself. She doubted these people really even cared what kind of place they were living in. They looked to be mostly drug addicts and drunks and runaways and criminals. Poor things. If only they knew. They still have a life to live. They could change it, should they choose to do so. They weren't confined to their own personal hell, to killing for survival. They had a chance. It was awful to see them all throwing their lives away. 

The girl walked past the few people still awake. Some of them seemed to recognize her from before. They nodded at her as if she were one of their own. She tried to smile back pleasantly, but found herself unable. The entire scene laid out before her was depressing. She came to the door to Duo's private room. The thick, rusted, metal door that she despised so greatly. "Okay," she said to herself as she grabbed the doorknob. "Just stay calm, and everything will be fine." She held the cold metal door handle tightly in her hand and pulled it open. 

The room inside was totally darkened, and she squinted into the pitch black, willing her eyes to adjust. She stepped inside silently and closed the doors behind her. There was no sound, save for her own heart drumming in her ears. Her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, and she realized she was alone in the room. There was nothing to fear. She flipped the light switch on the wall next to the door and flooded the room with brightness. She instantly regretted the action. 

The bodies. Those two boys' bodies were still sprawled on the bed and the floor. Blood was splashed against every wall and on the ceiling. It gave her a sinking feeling in her stomach, and she held her hand over her mouth in disgust. The smell. The smell was awful. The entire room reaked of rotting flesh and old blood and musty human scent. How she hated the dead. Their smell was repugnant and disgusting, and it made her want to run from the room, but she stopped herself, gathering her courage. 

She walked cautiously over to the bed, as if the corpses may spring to life and attack her. Her backpack was lying on the floor next to the bed, and she picked it up, setting it on the worn down mattress. She opened it up, sifting through the contents. 

She pulled out her bowie knife, still sheathed in its' leather package and wrapped in a red silk scarf. Her Smith and Wesson .357 magnum with the shortened barrel came out next. It was cold against her chilled skin. The light from above glinted off of the pearl handle she held tightly in her hand. She set it beside the backpack on the bed. Another knife, this one shorter, but double-edged and wavy. It had been forged out of silver and iron. It was heavy and clunky, but she rather liked it. Her large gold cross stared up at her from inside the backpack. She had found out very early on that crosses have no effect on vampires. In fact, many of the things she had heard about before, crosses, garlic, a stake through the heart, even the sun, they all had nothing to do with vampires. Yet, she still carried this cross around with her. It gave her strength and something to believe in, and with the situation she was facing now, she knew that she needed these things more than anything else. 

A few more books about vampires laid at the bottom of her backpack. She counted them with the tips of her fingers. All five were still there, and she placed everything back in the knapsack. She found the large, old book on the floor next to the bed and put it in the backpack as well before zipping it up and hoisting it up to her shoulder. 

The smell was beginning to truly nauseate her now, and she practically ran out of the room, turning around and shutting the door tightly behind her. Relena placed her head against the metal door and sighed with relief. Duo hadn't been there. She could breathe easier now knowing that she would have more time to prepare herself for her fight with him. She turned around to leave, and immediately stopped, coming mere centimeters from bumping into someone's chest. 

Relena gasped and looked up, fear immediately rising inside her when she saw the familiar pair of reflective sunglasses staring back at her. "Duo..." she breathed, grasping her chest above her heart. 

The boy smirked at her and waved a finger in front of her face. "Tsk, tsk, Relena," he said, breathing his icy breath into her face. It smelled faintly of alcohol. "What are you doing here uninvited?" 

Relena tried to take a step back, but was halted by the door behind her. She pressed herself against it and stared at the boy with her mouth hanging open. "I... I was..." 

"You should never come her uninvited, Relena," he said seriously, his smirk dropping from his features and changing to a menacing glare. 

"I left my backpack," Relena retorted, gathering up all her courage, prepared to fight this boy now, should he choose to make the first move. She knew it would happen someday soon, anyway. Why not now? 

"Your silly little toys," the boy scoffed, shaking his head. "You'll have no need for those in our battle." 

Relena knitted her brow in confusion. "What are you talking about?" she asked. Certainly he couldn't know what was in her pack! Everything was still there. He would have hidden them from her if he had found them. He would have figured out that they were the weapons she had used to kill all of the others. 

"Your little gun and all of those knives. Those books won't help you, either." 

Relena suddenly became furious, and stepped up to his face, coming just inches from his body. She could almost hear his heartbeat mingling with her own. "You think you're so smart, don't you!?" she screamed, and jabbed a finger into his chest. It was surprisingly taught and muscular. She had expected this thin boy to be slightly out of shape. She had never imagined him to be so built. "I've killed others with these weapons! What makes you so special that I couldn't do the same to you?" 

The boy scoffed in her face, choosing to ignore the finger poking into his pectoral muscle. This girl certainly could appear to have some guts when she chose to. He grabbed her chin in his hand and held it tightly. She did not back down from him, nor did she shy away from the touch. She stood proudly, still pointing her finger into his chest. "Relena, darling," he said, squeezing the soft skin of her face slightly harder. "I may not be the oldest vampire, but one thing is certain." 

"What?" 

"I am the strongest." 

Relena removed her finger from the boy's chest and slapped his hand away from her face brutally. He sneered at her. "You're lying!" 

Duo stopped sneering and smiled again. "You think so?" 

"I know so!" she screamed. Some of the people who were still awake began to gather in a crowd around the two. They stared at them arguing, wondering what all of the commotion was about. Most of them looked high on drugs. All of them looked thin and drawn, the dim light of the fires burning in the barrels making them out to be looming over Relena. She didn't like the eerie feeling it gave her. 

"Shoot me," Duo commanded, stretching his arms wide open and giving her a perfect shot at him. The girl stared, totally stunned. "You think you can kill me with a weapon like that. Shoot me." Relena dare not make a move. It must be a trick. "Dammit, Relena!" he screamed at her, the threatening growl echoing in the high-ceilinged room. "I'm giving you a chance to finish the job you started so many years ago! If you think you can end my life, then do it!" 

Relena lowered her face and glared at the boy from under her brow. "If you want to die today, Duo, then so be it." She slung the backpack around to her chest, unzipped it, and pulled out her gun, dropping everything else to the floor. 

She looked down the line of the sights, aligning the barrel of the gun directly with his chest, holding it in both hands. He did not move. She cocked the gun. He smiled at her. She pulled the trigger. Time seemed to stop. She watched as the bullet traveled from the gun towards its target. Duo stood solemnly, looking Relena directly in the eye. The bullet traveled to the boy's chest and hit it hard, knocking him back a few steps. He fell back against the people standing behind him, looking completely stunned. Blood rushed from his chest, soaking his shirt front. She faintly heard a few people scream. "You shot me!" Duo screamed, holding his hand over the hole in his chest. Relena had no reaction. She watched as the people he leaned against slowly lowered him onto the puddle of blood on the floor. He drew his knees up to his chest and rocked back and forth, sobbing. 

He was crying! She could see the tears clearly as they flowed down his face. He looked up at her, his large, scared violet eyes gleaming in the small amount of light from the fires that cast away the shadows. Relena dropped the gun to the floor in surprise. She hadn't expected him to react this way. She suddenly felt sorry for the boy. He looked so pathetic and innocent, crying and rocking back and forth. She could feel his pain in her own chest, and she knelt down next to him, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He continued to cry and moan in pain. "I... I'm sorry, Duo," Relena said sadly. She felt awful for what she had just done. No one had ever been alive after she'd shot them. They had never cried up at her, their tears staining their smooth skin. They had never looked so pitiful as Duo did right now. 

The boy lowered his head and continued to rock. The sobbing grew louder. It echoed throughout the entire room and made a hollow sound against her mind. The boy was practically wailing now, and his shoulders were shaking fiercely. The sobbing stopped, but he continued to shake. He still rocked back and forth in pain. Then the sobbing came again, but it was different this time. It was louder. It was not so pain-ridden. It was... laughter. 

The boy looked at Relena again, a huge smile on his lips. He opened his mouth and laughed out loud, making the girl shiver. She sneered down at him, and he smiled up at her. It was a wicked smile, filled with evil. She slapped him across the face, and he continued to smile and laugh. She slapped him again. The laughing didn't stop. She jumped on top of him and began to beat him, punching his face and chest and stomach, anything she could punch, as hard as she could. He continued to laugh at her. She could feel her hands becoming drenched in the blood from the gunshot wound. She screamed loudly and continued to hit him with all her might. 

Finally, someone grabbed her arms and dragged her off of him. She kicked and flailed her arms, daring the person to let her go. She felt ready to kill everyone in the room, should they release her. "Don't you think you've done enough to him!? You crazy bitch!" someone yelled at her. She ignored it and began to claw at whoever it was that was holding her back from the boy who was lying on his back, still laughing at her. 

"He's dead, already!" someone screamed. Relena stopped fighting and stared at the boy on the floor. She did a double take. It wasn't Duo! It was some innocent young boy. He couldn't be more than eleven or twelve years old. He lay on the floor in a large pool of his own blood, a gunshot wound in his chest. Relena fell out of her captor's arms and onto the floor. She stared at the young boy's body, totally confused. She had shot Duo. It had been him standing right in front of her. Who was this child lying dead on the floor? 

Relena clasped her hands over her head and shook violently. Everything was so confusing. It had all been a mind game. Duo must have known she was here and made her think that he had been here as well. That poor child. She had shot an innocent for no reason. The girl sobbed into her knees. 

Duo's voice came resounded through her mind, talking to her over her sobs. "Relena..." It was a haunting sound, and at first she thought she had imagined it, but the voice spoke again. "Relena, darling..." Relena looked up, scanning the crowd for the boy with the silvery eyes. He was nowhere. "You can't kill me, Relena." 

"Shut up!!" the girl screamed frantically. Everyone backed up a few steps. The girl was talking to herself again. "Get out of my head, Duo!" she screamed. The sound echoed hauntingly through the room. 

"I am eternal, Relena." 

"Go away!" the girl screamed pathetically before sobbing into her knees again. 

The boy laughed within her mind, and the sound grew steadily louder, until she felt as if her eardrums would burst. "You'd better find another way to kill me, because that gun," he said jokingly. "It won't work with me." 

Relena shook with fear a moment more, until the laughter in her mind died away. She looked up. There was a crowd gathered around her, and all of the dangerous, dirty looking people were staring down at her as if she were insane. "Duo is crazy!" she screamed at everyone. They stared warily at her. "He's an evil vampire, and if you don't all leave, he's going to kill you!" She heard a few people snicker and laugh at her. The girl sighed to herself. As if anyone would actually believe her now. She couldn't even believe herself anymore. 

She picked up her gun and backpack and walked backwards out of the room. Those poor people. They were all doomed. They had no idea of the evils Duo had committed. They had no idea. She turned around and ran, flying through the long corridor decorated with fence and spray paint. She flung open the door at the end, the sunlight making her go blind for a moment. She stumbled over some trash on the ground at her feet, nearly losing her balance. The girl didn't even bother to close the door behind her. She ran down the alley as fast as she could, trying to get as far away from that place, and Duo, as she could. 

~~~~~~~~~ 

"Duo!" Quatre screamed, shaking his shoulder. He had gone totally still a moment before, and now he stared blankly into space. "Duo, what's wrong with you!?" 

"That gun... it won't work with me," he said into space, smiling. Quatre stared at him strangely a moment before backing away. What was he talking about? He'd been mumbling to himself for a few minutes now, and here he was, talking about guns to no one. 

"Duo... are you okay?" The boy stared at him a moment longer. 

As if someone had flipped a switch, recognition suddenly lit up within Duo's eyes, and he smiled at the blonde in front of him. "Sorry about that, Quatre," he said soothingly. 

Quatre stared at him as if he had gone mad. "You were talking to yourself..." 

The boy laughed in response and shook his head. "No, I was talking to Relena. She was in my room. I just wanted to scare her a bit." Quatre raised an eyebrow in confusion, so Duo took the liberty of explaining what he had just done. "You see, as an older vampire, I can sense where the younger ones are. I knew she had gone back to my place, so I fucked with her mind a bit. It's pretty far away from here, so it took some concentration, and that's why I seemed to space out for a moment there." 

The blonde nodded, although he wasn't sure he totally understood. "It's morning," he said plainly, turning to look out the broken glass of the window in the church. "We should get back to civilization." 

Duo nodded and hauled himself to his feet. His legs were tired, and he still felt weak from the night before. He would need to go back to his bed and sleep a few more hours. "Let's go, then," the boy said, stretching his lengthy arms in the air and yawning. "I'll show you the place I call home, Quat." 

The boy smiled at the pet name and stood up as well, stretching like Duo had done. He followed him out the front doors of the church, watching every move he made as he walked. "Quat," he whispered to himself, smiling. 

~~~~~~~~~ 

Pain. He could feel the pain of this young girl. She was falling into his arms, her eyes closed. So light and thin. Her skin was pale, her hair was thin and dry. She was an alcoholic and a drug addict and a prostitute. Normally, he would never drink the blood of a drug user, but today, he felt in the mood for some bitter blood. He had fed upon two healthy, beautiful young girls the night before. This one was just for fun. Just for the fun of killing and feeding. Just to see how fearful she became when he sank his teeth into the supple flesh of her neck. 

The girl in his arms was dead now. Her heart had stopped beating. The boy dropped the girl to the ground. Her lifeless body lay still, her green eyes staring blankly at nothing. The boy wiped the blood from his mouth and smiled. He left the darkened alleyway he had entered with the girl, stepping back onto the busy streets of the city. 

Like lightning flashing in his mind, a thought was suddenly rushed upon his brain. "A new vampire," he whispered to himself. The voice was icy and grave. "This has got to stop." He leaned against the wall of the brick building on the street and closed his eyes. The new vampire. He was young like all of the others that had been created. Why did Duo have to make them so young? Blonde hair, blue eyes. That girl. The one who has been killing all of the other vampires. She would certainly get to him. She would kill him. The boy sighed to himself. Another life wasted. 

"This has got to stop," he said again to himself. A few people walking by stared at the strange boy with the sunglasses as he sat talking to himself. 

The boy focused his thoughts on Duo. The long braid, the silvery-violet eyes, the large, knowing smile. He pinpointed his exact location, halfway across the world. North America. United States. Boston, Massachusetts. The outskirts, coming back from someplace deep in the woods. The boy nodded his head silently and pushed himself off of the building with his shoulder. He walked down the street silently. 

The boy went to the airlines and booked the next flight out of Japan, to Boston.   



	6. Chapter 6

Kyuketsuki Jigoku   
(Vampire Hell)   
Chapter Six: Doshite Kono Iru no Suru Kimi?   
(Why Are You Doing This?)

  


"Would you like a drink, sir?" 

She was a pretty woman, with blonde hair and blue eyes. So obviously American. She had a heavy New York accent, speaking quickly. The boy had to struggle to understand her. It had been years since he'd spoken English, and now he was being bombarded with beautiful, healthy-looking young women, scurrying around him, asking if he needed anything else. A pillow? A drink? Hot towel? Bag of peanuts? That was the problem with first class, he supposed. 

The boy lifted his full glass of scotch to the woman, who smiled and pushed the cart further down the aisle of the airplane. 

"Do you know who is in 4A?" she asked the woman at the end of the aisle, another flight attendant. 

She lowered her voice to a whisper, saying in a hushed, secretive tone, "I'm not sure, but he must be famous. He's really cute." 

The boy smiled to himself. Simple humans. 

"He's wearing those sunglasses. Probably trying to hide his identity," the blonde woman said jokingly. 

Hide his identity, huh? As if they knew. His identity was a vampire. Sunglasses or not, they would never know that. The second stewardess, this one brunette, with heavy eye make up, continued on down the aisle, carrying her steaming pot of coffee. She stopped at 4A, leaning down to get the boy's attention. Her top buttons were open, and her shirt fell forward, revealing a large bust, covered by a black lace bra. He could smell her feminine perfume. Something jasmine with a hint of lavender. "Would you like a cup of coffee, sir?" she asked slowly. This woman was southern. She definitely had the accent. The boy smiled to himself. How cute. 

He continued to stare down her shirt, and a slow grin began to form upon his lips. "Sir?" she questioned, and he raised his eyes, staring over the low rims of his sunglasses. She was far from beautiful, but there was something pleasant about that warm smile she used. Her mouth was large, with pouty red lips that seemed to beckon to him. Her baby blue eyes sparkled in the reflection of the sun coming in the small window across the seat next to him. 

"Name?" the boy asked flatly, more a command, than a request. 

"Excuse me?" she answered, still smiling, but slightly confused. She stood up straight and placed her free hand behind her back. 

The boy smiled and took another sip from his glass of scotch. "What is your name?" he questioned again, adding annunciation to each word. 

The woman bit her bottom lip and pointed to the small tag on her shirt. It read, "Samantha" in large, bold, black letters. 

The boy stared at it, then at the woman, then back at the tag. "I asked what your name was," he said, turning his head back to stare straight forward. 

The woman looked around strangely for a moment, then squinted at the man. "Do I know you?" she asked, leaning forward again. The boy stared down her shirt. They were definitely nice breasts. Very plump. Very healthy. 

"No." 

"Then how would you know that my name isn't Samantha?" 

The boy shrugged his shoulders slightly, the right side of his mouth twitching into a quick smirk. "I just know. What is your name?" 

"Caroline," she stated strangely. She could feel a tightening in the muscles of her back. The man was making her strangely nervous, yet... he was so attractive to her. So mysterious and odd. He was like no one she'd ever met in her life. 

"Well, Caroline," he said, smirking, and taking a quick look down her shirt. "Five minutes before the plane lands, meet me in the bathroom." 

The woman was aghast. What nerve! Her mouth fell open in surprise, and she found herself fumbling for words. "You... I would never... Just what are you implying, sir?" 

The boy smiled strangely, his white teeth showing between his thin lips. "It's not what you think, Caroline. I just need to talk to you. It's very important." 

The woman leaned even closer, lowering her voice to a hushed whisper. "I'll be there," she said mysteriously. She smiled quickly, then continued walking down the aisle. "Coffee?" she asked the woman behind him. 

"Is it regular, or decaf?" 

So easy. These women were so easy to lead to their death. The man smiled to himself. Just act mysterious and strange, and they fall for you. Simple as that. The boy shrugged to himself. "I suppose that's who I am, anyway. Mysterious and strange. It's no act," he thought silently. The man cast a glance over his shoulder. The woman was still walking down the aisle. He admired her rear, how the fleshy mounds shifted around underneath the thin fabric of the black skirt she wore. 

It's not that he liked women. No. They were far too simple. They were so weak, so easily deceived. Certainly, he'd slept with hundreds of women, giving them a quick flash of pleasure in their lives before killing them. He always killed them afterwards. He'd yet to find a woman worthy of becoming a vampire, like himself. In fact, the only human he'd ever found worthy of vampirism was Duo Maxwell. 

Duo Maxwell, the wild youth who had caught his eye a mere 782 years into his life. He had been so kind when they had met. It had been a foggy, dim night, the light of the moon obscured by heavy clouds threatening to release their rain. The boy had been living on the street, as so many humans had been those years. He'd had such long, beautiful hair, though. Longer than most men had ever dared grow theirs out. Those sparkling violet eyes had smiled up at him innocently, and he knew he'd never see anything as beautiful as the human before him. 

He'd picked him up, cradling the frail body in his arms, and carried him a mere six miles to his home, a large castle on the outskirts of the small village. Of course, it was nothing of a home compared to the larger castles that were to be built in later years. It was more of a large brick and stone hovel, than a castle. Two stories tall, very high for those times, with a large fireplace in the center of the hall that had been the only source of warmth during the cold winters of England. 

England. He remembered those long ago years of his life so well. The streets were always dirty and the humans who had meandered about aimlessly were always becoming sick and dying. Dead bodies were everywhere. 

Duo Maxwell had been one of those dying youths on the street. He had eaten nothing in the past week, and had graciously accepted the food offered him while he lay in the large bed. His skin was so pale and thin, yet his skin was so fine and smooth, so perfectly sculpted. 

"Why are you doing this for me?" he had asked so innocently. The vampire had never seen a boy of seventeen so entirely untarnished and uncorrupted by the world he lived in. 

"Because I like you." Those words. He'd never spoken so truthfully to someone before. 

A few days had gone by before he'd made his move. This time, though, it had been different. The plan had been to simply kill the boy and feed upon him. To add him to the steadily growing list of humans he'd used for nourishment. Why had he found himself suddenly unable? He'd entered the boy's chambers at night, with the moon high in the sky. The light fell into the room and flowed over the contours of his sleeping body, and the vampire was again struck by the boy's beauty. 

It had been a light kiss. Nothing more than a whisper of lips upon the pale forehead, but that had been enough to stir the boy from his sleep. 

"Why did you do that?" he questioned, his fingers grazing the place where the vampire's lips had so recently settled. 

"Because I like you." Truthful, once again. Another kiss, this time upon the soft lips that became so pliable and unrelenting against his own. It had steadily become more insistent, deeper, and he had plunged his tongue into the boy's mouth, something he would dare not do to any other human before that night. The braided boy had slid his arms around his waist and held him closely to his own body, before flipping him over onto his back and pinning him down with all of the one hundred and five pounds of his body. 

He'd run his hands over the entire length of the vampire's body, unhindered by and unworried about the low temperature of his skin. The boy had quickly divested the vampire's body of all of his clothes and entered him from behind, something so completely unexpected. He had never felt such strange sensations, and he oddly found himself enjoying them, allowing the boy's warm hands to scratch along every inch of himself and grope every crevice of his body. The boy had cried out his name a few moments later, then fell upon him, his chest heaving with the humanly exertion. He rolled over onto the bed next to him and gazed into his eyes that had been a dark blue back then. 

"Why did you do that?" the vampire had asked, staring down at the nude boy lying on the bed next to him, the thin body beading with sweat from the humid night pouring in from the open window. The air had tasted of rich spice that night. He remembered the smell so well. The boy's smell mingling with the night air. So erotic. 

"Because I like you, too," he answered, smiling. 

"Attention, passengers, we will be landing shortly. Please be sure to remain seated, and keep your seat belts securely fastened once the 'fasten seat belts' light comes on. Thank you." 

The man shook his head, tossing the memories quickly out of his mind. He wiped along the rims of his moist eyes, removing any tears that may have gathered and threatened to fall. No time for tears over that boy now. He had to be strong. He had to remember that he had a job to do here in America. He had to stop this vampire from carelessly creating others. And what was he to do about that female vampire who was killing all of the others? No. No need to think about her now. The first thing to do was to find Duo. To find his child. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"You live here, Duo?" the boy questioned, shakily gripping the fabric of Duo's black jacket. Everyone around him was staring at him. Staring at the small picture of innocence. Duo sent them all away with a small wave of his hand, and they quickly scurried past, going on with their previous activities. The heavy bass of the music made his stomach rumble strangely, and he nervously clutched the boy's jacket tighter in his small hand. 

"Not here, exactly," Duo answered playfully over his shoulder, weaving through the crowd with amazing ease. "I live in that room, over there." He pointed to the heavy, rusted metal door far along the wall to the right. The boy nodded and continued to follow as closely as possible. 

"Hey, God of Death!" a boy's voice from behind the two called. 

The boy ceased his quick pace suddenly, causing Quatre to stumble against his body. Duo turned around fiercely, a serious glare scrawled over his face. "I've told you not to call me that, Mike!" he screamed over the crowd. Everyone around them stopped and stared. 

The boy who had called his name tentatively stepped forward, his hands behind his back. He looked like a shamed canine. "I'm sorry, Duo, but I had to tell you before you went in your room..." 

"I know, that girl was back, and she killed Tommy and the other two," Duo said knowingly, the grin suddenly replaced upon his features. He quickly waved his hand at his followers, and they resumed their activities. 

"The other two!?" Mike questioned, leaning forward. "What other two!?" 

The boy huffed and slumped his shoulders in disappointment. "Don't tell me you haven't found them yet!" 

The boy stuttered, shaking his head in confusion. "I... I don't know what... who...?" 

"Wayne and Gary. They're in my room, you know! You guys just left their bodies there!?" 

Quatre stared at the two boys engaged in the conversation. Mike was so tan, with dark brown hair. And a lot larger than Duo. He looked much stronger. It was strange to see this large man act like a dog with his tail between his legs to a boy half his size. Was it fear, or respect, Quatre wondered. Probably fear. He silently questioned why Mike had called him the God of Death, but chose to ignore it. That was something he may never want to find out. 

"I didn't know that," Mike stated plainly, suddenly paling. 

"I'll be back in an hour. Have the mess cleaned up by then, okay?" Duo said, waving Quatre over while he walked away. 

"I will, Duo," the boy yelled at his retreating back. 

Quatre ran to catch up to the boy, again clinging to the back of his jacket as he resumed his weaving through the crowd. "Where are we going now?" Quatre asked over the boy's shoulder. "I thought you were going to show me where you lived?" 

"Later, Quat," Duo said, waving a hand back at the boy. "I thought maybe we could go get a bite to eat."   
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~   


No, this was all wrong. This woman was far from perfect. Her blood was tasteless and bland. Not rich and sweet and slightly sour as he had expected. She was hardly worth his time. Well, there was nothing to do about it now. He couldn't very well let her go, though he was sure she would not mind. She was still kicking about a bit, still trying to push against his strong chest. She should have figured out by now that it was pointless. 

He finished drinking her blood quickly, and left her dead body slung sideways over the small toilet in the airplane bathroom stall. He stepped outside, closed the door, and stared at the lock. It quickly made a clicking sound and the small sign showed the word, "occupied." Good. Now it would be a while before anyone discovered her body there. 

"All passengers, please return to your seats and fasten your safety belts," the feminine voice announced throughout the plane. The man did just that, leaning back into the plush fabric of his seat. It wouldn't be long now. So soon, he would see the boy again. How long had it been? The boy quickly did the math in his head. Four hundred and seventy-one years. Compared to his long life of roughly two-thousand years, the time gap seemed minuscule, but he knew it was, in fact, lifetimes. 

Would Duo be the same as he had been the last few years of their time together? He had become so cold and angry. At times, it seemed as if he had been envious, but the boy knew better. Duo was not the kind of person to become jealous of someone. It was so unlike him... 

The boy pushed these unpleasant thoughts out of his head and closed his eyes, willing his mind to quiet itself. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, it was nearly impossible to get the beautiful face of the boy out of his mind. It was as if he was always invading his thoughts now. 

A bell sounded through the cabin, and the boy opened his eyes. The 'fasten seat belts' light had come on, and now there was a woman standing at the front of the aisle, going through the landing procedures and explaining how to exit the aircraft. The boy ignored it, closing his eyes again. He'd flown in these humanly inventions so many times before, he new the drill. 

Why had Duo been creating all of these other vampires? Surely he must know that the young female vampire had been killing them all. Why would he be creating their new lives, just to have them destroyed so soon after their rebirth? It didn't make sense. Perhaps he knew the girl was killing them, and that was the reason he was making them. No... that made no sense. There would be no point in it. 

Perhaps he was lonely. That seemed likely. Duo had always been a very self-centered person, always needing to be in the spotlight. He was always so proud, wanting to be the center of attention. He never liked to be outdone in anything, as well. But, if he does not like to be outdone, then why is he allowing this girl to go on killing all of his children? 

The boy sighed inwardly and began to rub the bridge of his nose, nudging his sunglasses up. Nothing seemed to make sense right now. He used to know everything that Duo had been thinking. He could read every thought in his mind, and answer his questions before they were even asked. But Duo had so soon learned to close off his mind, and he'd never reopened it. Now, the boy realized that he was much more complex, more intelligent, more powerful, and more dangerous than he could have ever imagined. The power had gone to his head. The power had ruined him. 

It was as if, when he was turned into a vampire, his soul had died, while his body was left to live forever. Nothing made sense anymore... 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

It was a small place, simply a pool hall where truckers and a few of the locals would sometimes go to hangout. The entire room was clouded by smoke as thick as storm clouds, and the smell mingled with the watered-down beer that the fat bartender was passing out to people at the bar. There weren't many people there, a few drunks with their heads down upon the bar, a man and woman sitting in a dimly lit corner, exchanging seductive glances and whispering secretive things, two men playing pool. They both wore flannel shirts and tight black pants, along with black cowboy hats tilted downward and shielding their faces from the bright light above the table. 

Quatre had never seen a place like this in his life. It sent an eerie chill down his spine, and he suddenly felt as if everyone in the room was staring at him. He knew he must look strange. Duo had said the illusion would not be as effective, considering he had just become a vampire the night before, and his powers had not yet developed. He'd offered his assistance, but the boy had refused, demanding to accomplish the task on his own. Duo had actually seemed surprised that he'd been able to do it. 

But now, here he was, a mid-twenties man wearing a black long sleeve shirt and black pants, and walking around a bar as if he belonged there. He looked around at the various people. No one was staring at him, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that there were eyes upon him. 

"What can I get for you, young man?" the bartender asked, leaning his hands upon the bar in front of the boy. 

Quatre stared at him a moment. Apparently, the illusion was working perfectly. "I'd..." he began, but suddenly stopped himself. His voice. It was far too high-pitched to belong to someone as old as he. He placed his fingers over his lips a moment in surprise, staring wide-eyed at the man. 

The man stared back with a questioning look, still waiting for a response. 

"Duo, what am I going to do about my voice!?" Quatre questioned in his mind to the boy beside him, who sat backwards on his stool, resting his arms against the bar and taking in the surroundings. 

"Two beers," Duo said over his shoulder to the bartender, who gave the two a strange look, then waddled off to get the drinks. "Don't worry about your voice, Quat," Duo said in a reassuring whisper after the husky man had left. "Just control it the way you control your appearance. It's easy." 

Quatre concentrated a moment, closing one eye in frustration. "How's this," he asked finally, his voice slightly deeper, but still with a hint of his true voice showing through. 

"Try again." 

"How about now," Quatre asked again after a few more moments. His voice had become much deeper now, and a bit more gruff. He sounded like a heavy smoker. It suited his new body. 

"Fine," Duo answered, giving him a quick wink before sliding around on the stool and facing the front of the bar. The fat man waddled back over, still giving the two men a strange look, and he set a beer down in front of each of them. 

Duo picked his up and smirked crookedly at the man with one side of his mouth. 

Quatre left his on the bar and smiled, saying "Thank you." 

The man raised one eyebrow and walked off to tend to other customers. 

"Let's get right down to it, Quat," Duo said before taking a long drink from his glass. The beer was cheap, bitter, and watered down, but he didn't seem to mind much. Quatre stared at him questioningly. "We're here to hunt," said the boy, staring seriously at the innocent baby blue eyes. "Let us not waste our time. Choose who will be your first victim." He waved his hand out at the small crowd, indicating that any human in here had the possibility of becoming his very first meal. 

Quatre began scanning the crowd, not really knowing what he was looking for in a meal. He had no idea how to judge a person's blood. He didn't even know how to find out if a melon was ripe. 

"Just use your sense of smell," Duo said, offering him a small helping hand. "If you really concentrate on one person, you can smell the blood running through their veins, and then you can taste the smell. That's how you know if they're good or not." 

Quatre nodded his head knowingly, not really knowing if he could do this or not, but tried, nonetheless. The woman sitting in the corner. She was beautiful. Brown hair and brown eyes, she was tan and thin. He concentrated on the woman. He could hear her thoughts. He could hear her voice as she whispered to the man next to her. She smiled and the corners of her mouth had small dimples and her eyes creased up around the edges. Quatre focused his mind, listening to what his intuition told him. The woman's blood. He could smell it now. He could taste it. It was a bitter taste. Almost nauseating. 

"That woman... her blood is awful..." Quatre whispered lightly to the boy next to him. 

"Oh, her?" asked Duo as he lifted a lone eyebrow at the only female in the room. "She's on drugs. People like that... their blood tends to be a bit bitter, and not very satisfying. Try again." 

Quatre nodded silently, and one of the men playing pool caught his eye. He was tall as well, with large, muscled shoulders and a smooth face. The boy squinted at the man a moment, smelling the scent of his blood. It tasted smooth and rich. It tasted right. "That one," Quatre said, pointing at the man. 

"Good choice, Quat," Duo breathed, surprised at the boy's quick recognition of a good meal. His power certainly was developing rapidly. 

"How do we get him alone?" Quatre asked before picking up his nearly forgotten beer from the bar and taking a long drink from it. 

Duo stood up, cracking the knuckles in his left hand. He turned his head slightly, so he was looking Quatre directly in the eye over his shoulder. "Leave that one to me," he admonished simply as he began to stalk towards the man. 

Quatre watched in fascination as the vampire walked right up to the man. They were the same height now, given Duo's illusion. They sat talking a moment, and Quatre could barely catch the fewest hints of their conversation. 

"Playing pool, huh?" Duo asked sarcastically. 

"What's it to you?" the man replied. He was already beginning to look angry with the fool who would dare disturb his game. 

"I was just wondering, because this is my pool table," Duo growled, taking a step forward. 

The man whispered something vicious and shoved the boy, sending him back a mere three centimeters. Obviously dissatisfied with the reaction, he pushed him again, this time harder, and Duo immediately balled up his fist and threw it into the man's face. 

The man stumbled back, holding his injured jaw, a look of astonishment spread across his smooth features. Quatre could read his thoughts going wild. "What in the hell is this guy's problem? Little asshole... he's pretty strong." 

Quatre laughed silently to himself. "You have no idea..." 

The man reared back for a punch, fully intending upon beating the shit out of the little punk before him, but Duo caught his hand with ease and squeezed the balled fist, making the man cringe with pain, but not cry out, for he had his pride. 

The bartender immediately stepped in between the two, his hand going to the boy's shoulder and attempting to push the two apart. "Take it outside, you two," he said plainly, afraid the brawl may destroy his business. Duo nodded and began to walk out the back door, the man stalking behind him, taking off his jacket. 

Quatre leapt off the stool and ran to catch up to them. He ran around the corner next to the bathrooms and slung open the heavy metal door to see Duo already bringing the man to tears at his feet. He had broken his arm and was now holding him in a tight headlock from behind. Quatre could smell blood clearly, but it wasn't the man's blood. So, where...? 

The boy scanned the scene quickly, and noticed a small knife lying on the ground, covered in blood. He stared at it. The blood was red and seemed to be saturating the sand on the gravel alleyway. The blood quickly went from a thin, healthy red to a deathly thick black. Quatre looked up to see Duo glaring at him. The wound had been his. He could see the cut in his jacket on his arm. The blood there had turned black, as well, and he could see the wound slowly healing 

"Are you going to do this, or not?" he asked calmly. 

Quatre nodded his head, but continued to stare. 

"Well?" Duo asked sharply, getting impatient with the boy's hesitation. The man was still struggling in his arms, and it was getting quite annoying by this point. 

Quatre walked to the man, hovering above him like an innocent angel of death. He looked sadly down at the man, suddenly feeling sorry for him when he sensed the fear in his mind. He could feel the man's pain. His arm was hurting so badly. The bone was twisted and jutting up under his skin, but he still fought. The boy stared a moment more before lowering himself onto his knees on the sandy ground. He inched forward, until his face was inches from the man's. He could smell his breath, alcohol mixed with fear and adrenaline. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the man, who glared back at him and spit at him. 

"Fuck you," the man replied, digging his nails into the flesh of the arm wrapped tightly around his neck. 

Duo stared at the fingernails in his arm that were now beginning to draw blood, and released his neck, still holding onto his shoulders tightly. "Quatre, it's now or never," he cooed at the boy pleasantly, obviously enjoying the mixed emotions pouring from the man. Duo then released his grip, and the man jumped toward Quatre, who fell onto his back to dodge the swinging fist. The man jumped on top of him and hit him directly in the face, causing his nose to suddenly gush blood that splattered the ground with the force. 

"Fuck!" the boy screamed, grabbing his face. It didn't hurt as badly as he had expected. It had merely surprised him. The man was unhindered by the boy's pain and began strangling him. 

Quatre stared at him calmly a moment, assessing the situation. He mentally shrugged his shoulders and let instinct take control, grabbing the man's neck in return. He began to sit up, despite all of the pressure and weight being forced upon his body. 

They were now both on their knees strangling each other, but the boy still had the upper hand, and he squeezed his hands tighter into the flesh of the man's neck. He made a strange growl deep in his throat, and Quatre pushed him onto his back and crawled onto his middle, grasping the hands holding so tightly onto his neck. He pried the fingers away one by one, then removed the hands and pinned them to the ground by the wrists, hovering inches above the man's face. 

Quatre stared down at him a moment, suddenly enjoying the sense of power these actions gave him. The man stared back up at him, obviously surprised. His eyes were tearing up from the pain and embarrassment, but he still growled loudly at the boy. 

Quatre smiled proudly at the fear he was inflicting. No one had ever been afraid of him before. "Fuck you!" the man screamed again, still struggling with all of his might against the iron grip that held him. 

Quatre smiled even wider and leaned down closer to the man's face. "I don't think you want me to," he whispered playfully. 

"You're a faggot!" he roared back, his voice breaking into a squeak out of surprise. "Get the fuck off of me, you fucking faggot!" 

The boy glared down at the man's brown eyes, immediately insulted. His mouth turned into a twisted smile, and he released his grip on one of the man's hands, only to have his own hand rip the man's throat, causing blood to spray his face and clothes with great force. 

The man choked on his own blood, making a sound similar to sobbing, and Quatre stopped. He stared at the man, at the pain pouring from his eyes and the blood pouring from his throat, and regretted his action. He felt his mind whirl, and he lost his focus on reality. His mouth fell open in horror at his own actions, and he nearly lost consciousness with sorrow. 

"You're just a..." the man wheezed, staring at the blonde hovering above him. "...boy..." 

The man lost consciousness, his head falling lifelessly to the side. Quatre found himself unable to move. How had he lost his concentration enough to allow this man to see his true form? How could he have been so careless? And on his first hunt, no less. 

"Quatre!" Duo screamed, jerking him from his reverie of wild, screaming thoughts. "You have to do it before he dies..." he whispered more calmly. 

Quatre nodded and reluctantly lowered himself onto the wound at the man's throat, allowing his heart to pump the blood into his mouth. The taste was so strange, so much different than Duo's blood had been. It tasted fresher, more healthy. More alive, even. He lost himself in the moment, closing his eyes, and reveling in the sweet scent and the sweet taste and the ultimate euphoria of it all. It felt like an eternity that he lay on top of the man, feeling the blood dripping into his mouth and flowing down the length of his throat. Then he felt the man's heart slow. It began to flutter, still trying to keep a tight hold onto life, yet it was so weak, so tired. Then his heart beat once more, and never again. 

Quatre released his mouth from around the wound and sat up, staring at Duo with wide eyes. "He's dead," Quatre said, astonished. It was as if he could not find the realization of what he had just done. "I just killed a man." 

Duo smiled down at his child proudly, but he could already read his thoughts. He could feel the guilt beginning to rise inside him. The overwhelming self-repugnance. "Don't feel bad about it, Quat," he said soothingly, lowering himself to kneel in front of the boy and placing a tender hand against his soft cheek. "Everyone kills to survive. Whether it be an animal, or another human, we all do it." 

Quatre sighed inwardly, but accepted the boy's explanation. He was right. He had eaten poultry and beef and other meat products in his life. Those were all once living animals that had been slaughtered to feed humans. Now, humans had to be slaughtered to feed vampires. It was no different. No different at all. 

Then why did he feel so guilty about it?   
  
  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

Kyuketsuki Jigoku   
(Vampire Hell)   
Chapter 7: Hai...   
(Chapter 7: Yes...)

It was late in the afternoon now, and the sun was falling down heavily upon the boys' backs. They walked slowly down the bustling streets, neither of them daring to look upon the face of the other. Duo knew that it was strange of the boy. How could his powers have developed so quickly? It had taken him nearly a year to harness the power of illusion, yet Quatre had done it in less than a day. How could it be? 

Quatre wound his hands tightly around one another. He could still see the red smears on them, though he had been sure to wash off every trace of blood. It was strange. He could still smell the man's blood on his clothes. The stench was becoming overwhelming. His entire self smelled of death, and he felt his nose wrinkle intermittently as he walked. 

They finally reached their destination, Duo's own private hideaway. Everything was as it had been before. They pulled open the heavy metal door that creaked with the movement, walking slowly down the thin corridor of chain link fence and spray paint, turned the corner, and came to the open hall. 

Duo immediately sensed something strange in his home. It was as if he had received a shock to his system, and he stopped a mere five feet into the room. Everything looked the same. There were people everywhere, the majority of them doped up out of their minds. Duo knew everyone here. He could see their faces clearly. These were his friends, his followers. They were his gang. Yet, he felt strange. He felt as if there were someone here whom he did not recognize. Someone here whom he did not know. 

"No," Duo thought to himself, scanning the crowd quickly, his eyes darting back and forth of their own accord. "I recognize this feeling. I just can't remember..." 

"Duo?" Quatre questioned quietly over the blaring music system, placing a supportive hand upon the boy's muscled shoulder. "Is something wrong?" 

Duo flashed his familiar grin, trying to act casual and ignore the eerie feeling shooting through his body, straight to the tips of his toes. "Everything's fine, Quat," answered Duo reassuringly, still smiling as if all was well. He continued his pace, swerving through the crowd with ease. Everyone seemed to step aside for him. They knew who they were dealing with in the scheme of things. 

They passed the gigantic stereo system, and Quatre stared a moment. He'd never really looked at it before. It was a mammoth electronic device, with speakers nearly five feet tall screaming out the heavy bass and almost shrill voice of the song. Surely it was an expensive piece of equipment, probably thousands of dollars. He silently wondered where Duo had gotten the money to pay for it. Also, if he had that much money, what was he doing living in a run down place like this? Perhaps he'd simply stolen it. 

Something was still not right for Duo. He had the unshakable feeling that there was someone in here watching him. Yet, everywhere he looked, people had their faces turned from his. Not one person was looking at him. No one. That, in itself, was strange. 

He tried his best to shake the feeling as he finally came to his door. Quatre stepped up next to him, eager to finally see the place that Duo called home. 

Duo grasped the handle, and began to pull. It opened barely an inch before he released it, and it slammed itself shut. He whipped his body around suddenly, causing Quatre to back away a few steps out of surprise. The boy clenched his fists and stepped forward a bit, jerking his head back and forth, still searching. Quatre watched his braid as it was flung from the left to the right. 

"Who in the hell is that!?" Duo screamed over the crowd. A few of the people close to him stopped whatever they were doing and stared at him, but not many people. The music was far too loud for him to be heard over. He couldn't take it anymore. He growled out a scream and the music that had been blasting throughout the hall suddenly died, leaving the entire place in silence. 

Everyone turned to stare at Duo. 

"There's someone here," Duo said mysteriously to the crowd in general. He began walking back through the crowd, weaving in and out between people, knocking them out of the way to see past them. 

All eyes were still upon him. No one dared to speak up. 

"I know you're in here..." he growled, still searching. "When I find you..." 

"You'll what?" he heard a familiar voice say quietly from a distance. 

He knew the voice. He knew the feeling, but to whom did it belong? He turned around, his eyes wide. Quatre ran over to him, again grasping onto the back of his jacket for protection. "What's wrong, Duo?" he asked silently, communicating with his mind. 

Duo chose to ignore the question, and began stalking in the direction from which the voice had come. "Dammit, where are you!?" 

"Right here," the voice said again, this time from another area, directly behind him. 

Duo screamed in frustration, clenching his fists even tighter. He ran towards the voice now, shoving everyone roughly out of the way. "I've had enough of these games!" he screamed, piercing the silence with his frustration. 

"Then turn around," the voice whispered in his ear. 

Duo whipped his head around, and suddenly found himself staring into a pair of intense silvery-blue eyes. He took a step back out of shock, bringing his hand to his chest. "Heero..." he breathed out, nothing more than a sigh of words. 

The chiseled features of the boy suddenly broke, and his face contorted into a familiar grin of pure delight. 

"Heero!" Duo wailed excitedly and ran to the boy, forgetting that everyone was staring at him. He threw his arms around his shoulders, dragging him into a rough, tight embrace. 

The boy slowly lowered his hand to the long brown braid trailing down the slim back, and took it in his hands. It was as soft as it had been so many hundred years ago. So familiar and so comfortable. Even Duo's smell was the same. Something mingling between musk and desire. 

Duo suddenly released his arms, pulling himself out of the boy's reach. "Heero!" he shouted at the boy, his face immediately flushing with rage. He dare not even bother to hesitate. He slammed his fist directly into the vampire's face, smashing his lip against his teeth and causing blood to trickle down his chin. The blood quickly turned from a bright red to a thick black, then stopped. Duo watched in increasing fascination as the wound healed itself in a matter of seconds. 

Quatre dare not say a word at the sight before him. He had absolutely no idea what was going on, and he was not exactly sure if he wanted to. All he knew was that someone was here, getting Duo's attention. He did not like that one bit, and he found himself unable to move. He simply watched as the newcomer moved in closer to Duo, taking his trembling hand in his own, and placing it against his chest comfortingly. 

"I'm sorry, Duo..." he whispered lovingly, a hint of remorse leaking from his voice. 

"Why are you here?!" Duo interrupted, nearly shouting. He ripped his hand away from the iron grip holding it, trying his best not to punch the man's face once again. 

"I've come to talk to you," the strange boy answered plainly, forgetting his momentary regret for unknown actions that had caused the other distress. 

Duo snarled at the boy, shoving his shoulder and sending him back nearly five feet. He nearly stumbled on some of the people still crowding around him. "Bullshit!" the boy roared, shoving him again, this time causing him to fall onto his back on the hard concrete floor. "I told you I never wanted to see you again!" he screamed again. 

Heero let his gaze travel up the length of the thin boy's body, taking in the purely exotic physique. He let a smile graze his lips yet again as he said, "You haven't changed one bit," and got to his feet. 

Duo felt himself relax slightly, yet silently wondered how this boy had found him after so many hundred years and so many hundred miles of distance between them. He had almost completely forgotten about this man. Forgotten the tousled, rough hair, the dark blue eyes that had now turned into silver, the long legs, the thin lips, the proud jaw line, the muscled back and chest. He silently regretted ever forgetting... 

"Is there someplace private we can go?" asked Heero, shaking the boy's thoughts away. 

Duo nodded silently, gesturing toward the door to his room. Heero followed close behind, placing a tender hand around his waist and pulling him closer to his side as they walked. 

Quatre stared after them a moment, suddenly feeling a wave of jealousy wake inside him. He turned around and ran from the hall, and from Duo, as the loud music resumed its playing through the room. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

How long had she been alive? She silently contemplated this thought as the storm threatening to break overhead warned her to seek shelter. She had been born in... let's see... could she even remember? She had never bothered to keep track of her life. It was as if every year, every hundred years, seemed to run into one another. 

She was merely a girl of 16 when she had been turned into a vampire. She didn't even remember her parents anymore, nor did she remember her brother, whom had been so much older than she. Let's see, if the year is now 2001... she was sure she'd been born at least three hundred years ago. She grasped for the memories buried deep inside her mind. Somehow, somewhere in her head, she had to know the year in which she was born. Seventeen... Seventeen eighty-six? No, that was not right. 

The storm clouds above her rumbled with the passing of the far-away thunder. She looked up to see rain drops beginning to fall directly upon her face. She hated the rain, always had. Lightning had always been one of the few things she'd been afraid of, and chose to avoid whenever possible. That, and Duo Maxwell. 

That vampire had a truly threatening persona. The creepy thing was, he was always smiling. She never knew what he was smiling about. He appeared to know everything about you, it was a knowing grin. A self-absorbed type of overly-proud smirk that leered down upon you. The mere thought of it had now become enough to send shivers down her spine. 

Relena continued walking down the now nearly deserted sidewalk, not bothering to give a second look to the people passing by. She barely noticed when a small boy running toward her jarred her shoulder and ceased her thoughts momentarily. "Sorry," the boy called over his shoulder apologetically, slowing to a walk. 

Relena raised her head. There was something in that voice. Like a whisper, only she had heard it so clearly. She turned around and stared at the back of the boy's head as his quick pace slowly changed to a stroll. Then, the boy stopped and turned around. 

She was staring at him. She knew it. There was something so familiar in his eyes. The boy was staring at her, as well, as if afraid. He knew he recognized her. He walked closer, trying to get a better look in the rain that was now pouring down upon the two. 

"Do I know you?" the boy whispered, stepping ever closer, squinting his eyes at the girl who stared plainly back at him. 

The girl lifted one eyebrow in question. "I don't think so." 

The boy looked disappointed a moment, then placed a hand on his hip defiantly. "Yes I do! I recognize you somehow." 

"I don't think so," said the girl again, this time tilting her head down to the ground and ignoring her intuition to go for the gun still tucked away in her backpack. Something inside her was screaming at her that this boy was a vampire, but it had to be wrong. The boy was so innocent, so frail. He didn't look as if he could even hurt a fly. 

"Your name wouldn't be Relena, would it?" the boy asked whimsically. He knew he was probably wrong, but it was worth a try. 

The girl suddenly jerked her head up and glared at the boy. No one knew her name. She'd made it a point not to tell anyone whom she did not trust. And trust, to her, was not something she handed out freely. 

"It is, isn't it?" the boy asked, a slow, proud smile beginning to form on his lips. "I knew I noticed a strange aura coming from you! You're..." The smile suddenly dropped from his face and he took a step back. "Oh shit!" he screamed aloud, and a few of the people still scurrying the streets stopped momentarily to see what the exclamation was about. "You're! You're the one who's been..." 

Relena quickly pulled the backpack from behind her and pulled her gun out of the side pocket, licking her lips and sighting down the length of the barrel, directly towards the boy's forehead. A woman screamed and jumped inside the nearest building, dragging her small boy along with her. Everyone else quickly cleared from the streets, a few of them screaming as well. "You're the new one!" she whispered angrily, cocking the trigger on the back of the gun. "Prepare to die!" She screamed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"Nice place," Heero stated flatly, scanning the small hovel with his eyes. 

Duo sighed behind him and closed the door. He stared at the man in front of him. The legs, the back... they were so powerful. He wondered how much stronger this boy had become over the hundred of years they'd been seperated. Perhaps if he... Duo concentrated on the boy, delving into his mind. He read the thoughts as if Heero were speaking to him. He was nervous, wondering what to do next. "Should I wait for him to speak? Should I talk to him about the girl, and that new child he's created?" 

Duo smiled to himself and sat down on the bed, motioning for the boy to do the same. 

The boy sat down, clearing his throat. "Duo, I..." he began, his mouth unmoving. 

Duo stopped the thoughts coming into his head, ignoring them as if Heero hadn't said a word with his mind. He gave the boy a quizical look, as if he were waiting on something. 

"He's still got me closed out of his mind," Heero thought to himself. Duo smirked again. "Duo, I came here, because I gravely needed to speak to you." How long had it been since he'd really spoken to someone? To another vampire? He knew this would be a difficult task after so many years. 

"You want to talk about Relena?" 

"Relena?" 

"The vampire who's been killing all of the others." 

"Oh. Yes, I suppose. She is... a problem for us." Heero felt his eyes travel from Duo's. He watched as the boy's chest, which was so erotically exposed from the unbuttoned shirt, moved with the rhythm of the boy's breaths. The defined muscles of his stomach could barely be seen before the shirt got in the way. The cross still clung to his chest, attached to the small silver chain. 

Heero put his hand to his own chest, reaching down his shirt and pulling out his own cross. 

"You kept yours as well, I see," said Duo, more of a question than a statement. 

Heero smiled at the boy brightly and said, "Yes, of course I did. I could never let it go. It contains a part of you." 

The boy shook his head and shrugged his shoulder nonchalantly. "Just my blood." 

Heero stared at the small red stone in the center of the cross. The red jewel of this boy's life that glowed so brilliantly before his eyes. "That's not it," he stated nostalgically. "The small jewel may hold your blood, but the cross itself is a part of you. A part that you willingly gave to me." He looked up, staring directly into the other boy's eyes of amethyst silver. "It glows when I take a life." 

"So does mine." 

"It never used to do that..." 

"... when we were together." 

"Do you always..." 

"...wear mine? Yes." 

"I do, as well." 

Silence descended for a moment. Duo stared at the boy's lowered eyes. They looked so lovingly upon the silver cross. The corner of his mouth twitched into an evil smile, and he slid towards the boy, taking the cross in his own hand and looking upon it intently. He saw the boy back away slightly at the closeness of his body. It had to have been a long time since this boy had been near someone like this. Someone that he actually cared about, that is. 

"It's not as pretty as mine," Duo stated flatly, noticing that the silver was becoming tarnished. He looked up into the boy's eyes. Mere inches from the cold skin, he could feel the icy breath blowing quickly across his lips. He could hear the boy's dull heartbeat slowly begin to quicken its pace. "Heero..." he whispered, tilting his head seductively to the left and lowering his eyelids slightly. 

"Yes?" the boy could barely force out of his clenched throat. 

"Would you play with me for a while?" 

"Yes." 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

The boy stared a moment at the gun pointed at his face, and the girl holding it. Her mouth had twisted into a scowl of determination, yet her eyes looked so sad. "Why are you sad?" he whispered. 

The girl lowered the gun a fraction, then returned it to its place. "I'm doing what's right. I'm not sad!" 

The boy tilted his head slightly, his lips turning into a pout. "I don't wanna die." 

The girl stared. 

"I don't even wanna be a vampire anymore." 

She lowered the gun. 

"Duo betrayed me." 

She stood a moment. "All masters do that to their children." 

"They do?" 

"From what I've seen, yes." 

The boy took a step forward, meeting the girl's gaze with his own. He could feel the barrel of the gun that she still held in front of her push into his stomach. "Why do you kill us?" he asked innocently. 

The girl's lips parted slightly and she stared at the boy. Why did she kill all of the vampires? Because they were evil. They needed to be stopped. 

"That's not it," the boy cooed, shaking his head. "It's something else." 

The girl knitted her brow. Vampires killed humans. 

"Why do you care about them? You're not one of them." 

Because they were living creatures. They didn't deserve to die. 

"Everyone dies. Why do you have to kill the ones who kill?" 

Because they did deserve to die. 

"Why?" 

Because they were evil. 

"By killing them, does that not make you evil, as well?" 

"It does," the girl finally stated, tiring of this boy reading her thoughts. 

"Then why do you do it?" 

"I don't know." 

"Revenge?" 

The girl bit her bottom lip. Revenge? 

"Revenge against someone who's hurt you?" 

"Yes."   



	8. Chapter 8

Kyuketsuki Jigoku   
(Vampire Hell)   
Chapter 8: Shiai no Kokoru   
(Chapter 8: Mind Games)

  


By early evening, the rain had subsided, though the gutters of the streets still had water flowing in them. Relena and Quatre walked beside each other slowly, neither of them daring to look at the other as they spoke. "Who was it that hurt you?" Quatre asked innocently. 

Relena thought a moment, then quietly answered, "The only person whom I've ever loved..." 

"Your creator?" Quatre grinned to himself, though the grin did not show in his voice. 

"Yes. I don't remember him, and I suppose I've killed him by now, but I still feel so angry towards vampires. Why do they have to be so cold-blooded and evil?" 

"Not all of them are." 

"You don't seem to be." 

"I'm not." Quatre smiled, then stopped walking and turned to her, running his fingers through his rain-saturated hair and flinging some of the water onto the sidewalk. "Would you like to go somewhere fun tonight?" 

Relena blinked oddly. What could he mean, someplace fun? She gave him a questioning look, then asked, "Where?" 

Quatre shrugged, "Oh, just some place fun. You know, maybe a concert or a circus, or carnival..." 

Relena almost smiled. "There is a circus in town right now..." 

"You wanna go?" 

Relena nodded, and they continued walking, side by side. Quatre timidly brushed his hand against hers, waiting for a reaction. There was none. He frowned, then took her hand in his own. She nearly gasped, but stared at him instead. "Quatre...?" 

"I like you, Relena." 

The girl smiled to herself. 

~~~~~~~~ 

Darkness... 

Pure darkness. 

No sound, no sight, no smell, no taste. 

Everything was gone. 

Everything but who he was and what he felt, sitting down on nothingness, his eyes blacked out by an indulgent silk blindfold, the tie of it wound up in his hair, pulling slightly. 

All was nothing for one long instant as he felt lips trace his own, and suddenly, he was greeted with a taste. A warm, wet taste that resembled faintly the taste of old blood, the smell even. Yes, he could smell now. The scent of the boy in front of him, now sitting atop his lap, the long, thin legs wrapped around him. Lavender... Hazelnut... Violets... Chamomile... Blood... 

All the smells mingled together, making the entire situation all the more erotic. Heero felt his body go limp suddenly, and he fell back on the bed, lightheaded. His wrists were being bound now, he could feel it. Leather. He could smell it. The nearly overpowering smell of freshly cleaned leather. So tight around his arms... 

He felt his shirt being removed slowly, but not with hands. A knife slowly grazed his skin, the cool blade sliding sinfully along the flesh as the shirt made a ripping sound. Yes... he could hear now. "Are you afraid of me, Heero?" a small voice asked from very far away, yet it was so close he could feel the breath blow along the edges of his ear. 

"I could never be afraid of you, Duo," the elder vampire answered, wanting so badly to reach forward with his bound arms and caress the smooth skin of his coveted child. His fingertips ached for the touch... his mind yearned. 

Duo smiled to himself. Always so impatient… He doesn't realize the insanity of the situation. "Heero..." he whispered, and the man smiled. "Stupid, naive Heero..." The smile faded. "How strange you are to believe." 

"Believe what?" Heero felt himself suddenly grow wary of the situation. His arms bound, his sight blocked. He felt very defenseless. 

"To believe that I would ever want you back. Quite the contrary, my dear, lovely Heero. I want you dead." 

Heero nearly gasped, but held it back. He would not let his child get the best of him, no matter what. He then calmed himself quickly, ignoring the fact that he had a blindfold on and was currently tied to the bed. It made no difference. He knew, no matter what happened, that he would come out on top. Not only was he the elder of the two, but he also had more power. Duo, of course, was ignorant of this fact, so he continued to play along, acting as if he were scared. 

"Always so perfect... always treating me like a child. Do you have any idea how that felt?" 

"No." 

"Well, you're about to. You're completely helpless. I'm about to do things to you that you would never have dreamed.... not even in your worst nightmares." 

"Duo..." Heero silenced himself when he heard noises coming from the corner of the room. Faint noises, something akin to scraping. He knew immediately that Duo must be rummaging around somewhere, looking for something. 

The noises stopped, and Heero continued. "Duo, what are you planning to do?" He tried to remain calm and collected about this, but being deprived of sight and movement was slowly grating at his mind. 

He heard Duo laugh, a soft, careless laugh. "I plan to kill you, Heero." 

Heero smirked. "Duo, you know you can't do that." 

Duo's barriers faltered for a moment, and Heero caught the slightest hint of apprehension in his mind. "Oh?" he asked as if it made no difference what Heero thought. The noises continued. "Can't I??" There was slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice. 

It was Heero's turn to laugh, now. Beginning as a light chuckle deep in his throat, then slowly forming into a heavy, outright laugh. Duo stopped his search in the corner of the room and cast Heero a wary glance before returning to his work. A small section of the concrete wall had been pulled away, revealing some of his favorite toys. He reached far into the depths of it and pulled out a long whip, then shrugged to himself, thinking, "This will have to do," and stood, slowly walking over to Heero. 

The older vampire smirked lightly, looking as if he were relaxing on a quiet afternoon, and not tied to a bed and blindfolded in a room where so many others had died. Duo stepped forward once again, this time tightening the whip around his hand. "What are you thinking, Heero?" he asked of him as he stroked the whip lovingly, admiring the tightly bound leather threads. 

"I'm thinking many things, Duo." 

"Oh?" 

"I'm thinking that if you try to hurt me, I'll hurt you back. I'm thinking that you've lost your mind. I'm thinking that it was a mistake to ever make you a vampire. That you've let the power go to your head, and now you think yourself to be invincible." 

Duo snorted. "Oh?" he asked sarcastically, then cracked the whip in the air above Heero's face. Unfortunately for Duo, Heero failed to even flinch at the noise. 

"Duo, I'm going to give you fair warning, just this once. Either release me now, or face the consequences." 

Duo quickly jumped onto the bed, standing above the bound vampire, a leg at either side of his stomach. "Don't you dare tell me what to do!" he barked, snarling like a wild beast. He continued, lowering his voice to a whisper, and calming himself. "You've told me what to do for long enough. It's my turn now." 

Duo sneered at the whip in his hand, then tossed it aside like a piece of garbage. "This thing is pointless. You're no fun to play with. I'm just going to have to kill you." He rummaged around in the blankets of the bed and found his large dagger that he had used to remove Heero's shirt, the silver blade of it glinting in the light coming from the bare bulb over their heads. He held it lovingly in his hands, then crawled back over and straddled the elder vampire's hips. "If you weren't such a goddamn stick in the mud, we could have had some fun before you had to die," he whispered, stroking the edge of the blade over the bare chest below him. Heero remained silent, his brow furrowing in concentration. 

"One last time, Duo. Let me go. Now." 

Duo snorted at him. "I'm not going to let you go, Heero. I'm going to kill you!" He raised the dagger up in the air, preparing to drive it straight into Heero's heart. 

That's when it happened, quickly as a bolt of lightning. Duo never saw it coming. Heero didn't even move, but the leather straps that bound his hands and legs suddenly snapped, and he leapt forward, grabbing the dagger from Duo with one hand, and wrapping the other hand around his waist. They both went falling backwards into the bed, Duo immediately screaming and flailing about with his free hand and legs. 

Heero quickly got him under control, as if the small boy underneath him had no strength whatsoever. He pinned both arms with one hand and then removed the blindfold with the other to see Duo nearly hissing at him in disgust. "Get off of me!" he shrieked, struggling for all he was worth to remove Heero's body from his own. Heero tossed the blindfold away and pressed the tip of the dagger to Duo's throat. The boy stopped short and stared up at him. As he swallowed heavily, the dagger pressed into his neck even more, letting out a slight amount of blood to trickle down onto the bedspread and quickly turn black. Duo couldn't help but smile up at him, then. "Heero… always so perfect. I always wanted to be like you." 

Heero blinked down at the younger vampire, but refused to say anything. A thousand thoughts were swimming through his mind. How he'd wanted to come back to Duo, to have his son cherish him as he had before. To be looked up to and admired for all that he was, all that he did. He missed that about Duo; the way his eyes had sparkled when he was around him. The way the younger man had clung to his sleeve like a lost puppy on the streets as they went searching for their next victim together. Why couldn't it be like it was before? 

"I always wanted to be like you," he continued, nearly a whisper now. Duo's face slowly fell to the side and he looked lost. Utterly lost. That was the only way Heero could describe the emotion seen in the depths of the braided vampire's eyes. "I was never strong enough for you, though. You were always better than me at whatever we did. You never treated me as an equal. You treated me like a child… like a possession. All I ever wanted was to be seen as an equal. To have half the strength that you had." 

Heero slowly removed the dagger from his throat, and leaned back, all of this news taking him as a total surprise. "Duo… I never meant to treat you like a child. I always did view you as my equal. That was the only reason I ever made you a vampire; because I thought you were worthy of it. I thought you could handle it. I believe I may have been mistaken. Everything that makes us… it also twists and perverts who we are. It brings out the worst of us." 

Duo blinked out a tear, his face still turned away from his creator. It fell down his cheek and onto the bedspread. A look of confusion crossed his face as he reached up and wiped at the salty trail left behind. "Heero," he breathed to the man above him, a whisper in total awe of the situation. "Heero, I'm crying." He turned his face back to him, and now a smile was alight on his features, his eyes still welled up with tears squinting slightly in utter joy. "Heero! I can cry!" He threw his arms around the vampire above him and pulled him down, holding the stunned vampire's cheek tightly against his chest and kissing the top of his head rapidly. "Heero… you made me cry, Heero. Thank you so much. I'm not dead inside. I'm not cold. I can still feel… Heero, thank you." He continued to babble meaningless words as Heero wrapped his arms around him, too, tightening the embrace. It felt so good to smell him again, to feel his child against him. He wondered if Duo would ever know the pure, true, undying love he felt for him as he began to slowly stroke his hair. His hand slipped around to the younger vampire's chest and pulled at the opening of his shirt, ripping off the buttons carelessly and sending them scattering to the floor with faint clicking sounds. 

Duo first wondered what the other man was doing, then realization came to him, and he took control, raising Heero's head from his chest and leaning forward to latch onto the vampire's neck tenderly while his hands worked themselves down to his black pants and began unlatching the button and pulling on the zipper.   
  
  



End file.
